Secrets and Regrets
by CJsMom
Summary: Post Doctor in the Photo. Brennan doesn't confess to Booth, but tries to deal with her regrets on her own. Eventual B & B.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I know I haven't finished The Change in the Answer yet, but after watching The Doctor in the Photo (the commentary was __**awesome**__, by the way) this idea started nagging at me and it just wouldn't go away. I hope you enjoy._

Brennan sat in the passenger seat of Booth's SUV, shivering from the cold. She was soaked from the rain, physically exhausted, and, she admitted to herself, emotionally wrung out. She'd figured it out. She now knew how Dr. Lauren Eames died, but she couldn't prove it.

She frowned. _I just know. Without proof._ She shook her head slightly, trying to make sense of the last few days. Everything felt off-kilter.

_All we get are these dim, staticky messages from the universe. _That's what Micah had said, and now, looking back over this case, she realized what message the universe was sending her.

_I made a mistake. I don't want to have regrets. _She could feel Booth glancing at her from time to time. And even though it wasn't rational, she could feel waves of concern radiating off of him.

Her stomach clenched when she realized it was already too late. _I missed my chance._

_I made a mistake. _She pressed her lips together to stop the words from escaping her mouth. As tempting as it was to confess everything to him, she accepted responsibility for this. She rejected him. She agreed that he should move on. Now that he had done so, she couldn't suddenly share her regrets with him. _No changies. No take-backs._

Tears pricked at her eyes and she bit the inside of her cheek in an effort to keep them in check.

"Bones, do you want me to…should I call Angela?" His voice startled her.

She shook her head almost imperceptibly and said in a shaky voice, "No, I'm fine. Alone." She finally understood what it meant to feel truly lonely. Before they'd taken their respective sabbaticals, Booth would have offered to stay with her. He would have _insisted_.

But now…now he had someone waiting for him at home. It was too much. The SUV felt suffocating. She felt trapped.

"Stop the car, please."

"What? Why?"

"Please, just…pull over." She could hear the frantic edge to her voice. She didn't want to break into hysterics in front of him.

He looked at her worriedly, but did as she asked. As soon as the car was stopped, she opened her door and jumped out.

"Bones, what the hell are you doing?" Booth asked as he followed her out of the car.

"I just…I need to be alone right now." She could see a cab in the distance. It was unoccupied. She stepped to the curb to flag it down.

He grabbed her left arm. "Bones, what are you talking about? _I'll_ take you home. It's two o'clock in the morning. It's raining, the roads are bad. I want to be sure you get home safe."

"Booth, I can't—I just need—" her voice broke, and she stepped away from him, pulling her arm from his grasp. She could still feel tears threatening to fall, and the words she had swallowed were rising like bile in her throat.

She had rejected him because she wanted him to be happy. That hadn't changed. _He is happy with Hannah. _She couldn't risk ruining that for him for her own selfish reasons.

She knew Booth. She wasn't entirely certain if he still had feelings for her, but she knew that even if he did, he wouldn't end his relationship with Hannah if she confessed her regrets and feelings for him. He would torment himself over it. And even if his feelings for her had waned, he would shoulder the guilt and the responsibility of her pain. She wouldn't put him in that position.

She was hit by a realization.

"_Can we still work together?" _She hadn't appreciated at the time just how thoughtlessly she'd tossed those words out to him. The memory only strengthened her resolve. If Booth could do that for her, then she would do the same for him. But first, she had to get herself back together. And it would be much easier if she kept her struggle hidden. She needed time and space.

"Bones, what the hell is going on? I'm not letting you take a cab!"

The cab stopped next to her.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself. She had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but she knew what she had to do. Telling him the truth would be more hurtful than this lie.

She looked him in the eye and coldly said, "Booth, I don't want you to take me home. I want to be alone. Let me go. Leave me alone."

"No, Bones…"

"Booth, just _go_! I want you to _leave me alone_." She sounded angry now, punctuating the last three words by tapping his chest with her finger, hard.

He recoiled as if she'd slapped him. It made her chest ache, but she was careful to keep her expression hard.

Before he could recover from his surprise and stop her, she had climbed into the cab and slammed the door. He stood and watched the cab drive away, dumbfounded. He watched until he could no longer see the taillights, but she never turned around.

oOo

Booth stood by the side of the road for several minutes, wondering _What the hell just happened?_ Finally, despite the hollow feeling in his chest, he climbed back into the SUV.

There was a text on his phone from Hannah, wondering where he was. He threw his phone into the passenger seat without replying and began to drive aimlessly. He had been exhausted, but his exchange with Brennan on the side of the road had banished his fatigue. He was feeling strangely wired.

He thought back over the last few days. Brennan had obviously been hit hard by this case. She'd drawn parallels between herself and the victim: same approximate age, height and weight; no family, no friends outside of work; that silly dolphin ring. He cursed himself for mentioning the similarities he had noticed between the two women.

He'd watched her become more and more irrational, exhausted, and emotional. They'd all seen it. They'd all worried about her. Even Hannah, who barely knew her could see that something was wrong.

And then…and then she'd gone to Woodland in the middle of the night and nearly gotten herself killed.

_Did she ever even go home? Was she working all night, every night?_ The simple fact that he didn't know was troubling to him. His relationship with Bones was something he'd wrestled with ever since he'd returned from Afghanistan, and especially since Hannah has arrived.

He frowned as he tried to remember the last time he and Bones had hung out, just the two of them. Months.

_You have no reason to feel guilty about that. You told her that you had to move on. She said she understood. She doesn't want you. You have Hannah. Simple._

But if it were that simple, then why was he ignoring Hannah's texts and driving around aimlessly trying to talk himself out of ambushing Brennan at her apartment and demanding an explanation?

_She'll be fine. She deals with this stuff alone. She just needs time. _But he didn't really believe that. It was more than just this case. She was holding something back from him. He could see it in her eyes.

Half an hour after he'd watched her cab drive away, he found himself outside her apartment building. Her lights were on. _She made it home safely._

He was tempted to pound on her door and refuse to leave until she explained herself. In years past, that's exactly what he would have done. Well, he'd have shown up with take-out and made small talk until she was ready to talk to him.

But as curious as he was to know, as frustrated as he was that she was keeping something from him, he was also terrified.

He thought back to the interview with the helicopter pilot who had a thing for the surgeon. Something he wasn't ready to name made his gut twist when his mind refused to let go of the possibility that there might be a connection between that conversation and Bones' behavior tonight.

He had an inkling of what her secret was and he wasn't sure he was ready to hear it. He wasn't sure what he would do if he were right. And he was disgusted with himself at the spark of hope that ignited in his chest. Unwilling to examine what that might mean, he shifted into drive.

oOo

Brennan jumped into the cab and choked out, "Just drive. Anywhere. Go!"

As soon as the cab pulled away from the curb, Brennan bent over double and broke into sobs. _Three days. Three days and my world will turn right side up again._

After her tears subsided, her head felt slightly clearer. She realized what she needed to do. She gave the driver her address, and when they arrived she threw a handful of bills at him and hurried inside.

It occurred to her that Booth might come here, demanding an explanation. That thought gave her pause. If he did come, she might give in to the temptation to come clean. _Unacceptable._

But if he didn't come…she felt a pang at the thought that he might _not_ come looking for her. That he might just go home and slide into bed with Hannah. As much as she didn't want to see him, the idea of facing _proof_ that he didn't care even that much about her anymore was too painful to contemplate.

Booth had once said she had a mania for the truth. Well, she had finally discovered one truth she wasn't ready to face.

She couldn't lie awake all night worrying.

Resolved, she quickly packed a bag and called another cab.

oOo

After forcing himself to drive away from Brennan's building, Booth drove for more than an hour before he finally began to feel tired again. He sighed. He didn't want to go home and climb in bed with Hannah just to lie awake and worry about Bones, but he wasn't sure where else he could go.

He turned the SUV toward home.

He crept into his apartment to find Hannah asleep on the couch, wrapped up in his fleece robe. He smiled to himself. She'd obviously been waiting up for him.

He was smiling down at her when his phone chimed, indicating he'd received a text. It was from Bones.

_I am taking a short leave of absence. I am turning my cell phone off, and I will be out of contact for at least three days. I will call when I return._


	2. Chapter 2

Brennan disappeared on a Tuesday. She was gone for five days. Booth spent the first two pulling every string he could to find her.

First, he tried the obvious angles. He spoke with Angela and Cam. They had received the exact same text that he had from her, and insisted they didn't know anything more about her whereabouts.

He checked with the doorman of her building, who reported that she had left very early in the morning with a small suitcase and a backpack.

He called her agent, her editor, anyone else he could possibly think of whom she might have notified of her absence. Every single one of them had received the same goddamned text she'd sent him. _I am taking a short leave of absence. I am turning my cell phone off, and I will be out of contact for at least three days. I will call when I return._

He was stung by the fact that he had received a mass notification, _a goddamned memo_, rather than a personal message.

He called in favors to other agents and found out very little.

He knew that she had withdrawn $200 from an ATM at 4 am Tuesday morning, less than two hours after he'd watched her disappear into a cab. She'd checked into a local hotel a few minutes later, and then checked out again at 9 am. She'd gone to her bank and withdrawn $5,000 in cash. And that's where the trail ended.

Her car was in its usual spot at her apartment. No airline tickets had been bought or cars rented in her name, but that was precious little information. He had no cause to request surveillance camera footage at airports, bus terminals, or train stations, and no authorization to commandeer the manpower it would require to comb through the footage even if he had it.

He was stuck. And so, after 36 hours, he had to admit defeat. Without evidence of foul play, he wasn't going to find her until she wanted to be found. The question of _why _she didn't want to be found ate at him.

He was a wreck.

Every night that she was gone he laid in bed, replaying her behavior during the Eames case, her reckless trek to Woodland in the middle of the night, the conversation they'd had on the sidewalk. Her angry words _leave me alone_ reverberated in his head.

The fact that she checked into a hotel that morning spoke volumes. She really did want him to leave her alone. The only reason for her to do that was that she was afraid he was going to follow her home and demand an explanation. She must have gone to the hotel to sleep for a few hours before the bank opened, so that she could withdraw a larger sum than the ATM would allow. He cursed himself for notknocking on her door. Even if he hadn't been able to talk her out of leaving, at least he could have seen her one more time before she took off.

And all of that cash. _Where could she possibly be going that would require $5,000? And for how long?_

He had barely spoken to Hannah since the brief conversation they had when arrived home shortly before dawn that morning, to find her asleep on the couch.

_She'd stirred when his phone chimed to signal the text from Bones. _

_He stood silently, dumbfounded for several moments after he read the text. _

_Finally, Hannah spoke. "Seeley? What's wrong?"_

_He looked at her, and the worry that creased her features made him realize what he must look like. Broken. That's certainly how he felt._

"_Seeley, what is it?"_

"_It's Bones," he finally choked out. "She's…I don't…" and then he handed her his phone._

"_I don't understand. Why is she taking a leave of absence?" She looked at him questioningly._

_Suddenly he was angry. He should know the answer to this question. He'd always prided himself on knowing Bones, understanding her. Why hadn't he noticed this distance between them before? _

_But if he were being honest with himself, it wasn't that he hadn't _noticed _the distance between them. Hell, he had _created _it, out of self-preservation. This was the first time he'd allowed himself to consider what that meant for Bones._

"_Seeley?"_

"_I don't know! I don't know why she's going or where! I. Don't. Know." His anger was seething now; he was breathing heavily and his fists were clenched. _

_Hannah flinched and said, "I-I'm sorry. I just…Temperance hasn't been herself the past few-"_

"_Don't." His voice was quiet, but sharp. "Don't act like—Just don't."_

_He snatched his phone back from her and speed dialed Bones' phone. Straight to voicemail. "You have reached the voicemail account of Dr. Temperance Brennan. Please leave a message."_

_The sound of her calm, collected voice shredded him._

_He walked into his bedroom and began to pace like a caged animal._ She said she wanted you to leave her alone. _He wrestled internally, wondering if he should respect her wishes—_but did she really even mean it?—_or go find her and demand an explanation._

_The truth was, 18 months ago, he would have known. He would have known what she needed, and he would have been there for her. Pulling her out of the path of that car suddenly seemed like precious little compared to months of estrangement._

_He looked up to see Hannah watching him from the doorway and stopped abruptly, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands._

"_Seeley, I don't understand…what is going on? Where were you? Were you with Temperance?"_

_It was an innocent enough question, but Booth bristled. He raised his head and glared at her. In the back of his mind he knew this wasn't Hannah's fault. All she had done was follow him, make him feel loved and worthy and almost whole again. He knew exactly where the blame lay and he was furious with himself. Looking at her, sleepy and concerned, he forced the anger back, schooling his features to hide his fury. He wouldn't take this out on her._

"_She's gone. She-I saw her earlier. She figured out what happened to the surgeon, and she was really—she was so upset. She wouldn't talk to me—she—I tried to take her home, but she—she told me to pull over and then she jumped out of the car and hailed a cab and she said—she said—" his voice was brittle, and it finally broke. He couldn't repeat her words out loud._

"_Oh, baby…" Hannah moved to put her arms around him, but he jumped up._

" _I need to—I'll be back in a while," he mumbled as he pushed past her. He ignored the stricken look on Hannah's face and fled._

oOo

It was late Wednesday night that he finally admitted to himself that he wasn't going to find her. He was just going to have to wait for her to work through whatever she was dealing with, and trust that when she did she would contact him or come home.

He had come to the Jeffersonian to talk to Angela _again_, convinced that if Bones were going to contact anyone, it would be her best friend.

Angela had been sitting quietly, staring into space when he arrived.

She looked hopeful when she saw him, "Did you hear from her?"

He shook his head. "That's what I was coming to ask you."

"Oh." Her face fell.

Without another word, he turned and headed for Bones' office. He collapsed heavily on her couch and looked around, thinking of all the hours they'd spent in this room together, bickering, joking, laughing together.

His stomach rolled when he realized just how long it had been since they'd done that.

Most of their communication was over email or the phone since they'd returned from their respective sabbaticals. They did their paperwork separately now, using couriers, fax machines, or email to ferry the necessary documents back and forth. The only time they spent alone together was in the SUV, to and from crime scenes or witness interviews. After case drinks were either skipped altogether or included Hannah.

He'd been telling himself for months that this was what she wanted. He asked for more. She said, _No_, and then she went halfway around the world to get away from him. He clenched his fists as he thought about how hopeful he'd been the first few weeks in Afghanistan every time the mail was delivered. After the first month, he'd had to face the truth. She wasn't going to write. It was just days after he'd come to that realization that he met Hannah.

It had been so easy to lose himself in Hannah while he was overseas, especially given the anger and resentment he felt over the fact that Bones had never attempted to contact him—not _once_—and had given him no way to contact her. He later found out that she hadn't contacted anyone else, either, but that wasn't much comfort. He was supposed to be different. _They _were supposed to be different. Or so he'd mistakenly thought.

And when they came back to D.C., he found that they fell a little too easily into their old routines. Despite his affair with Hannah in Afghanistan, he struggled to keep his distance from Bones emotionally once that they were in the same city again.

After just a few days of being back he began to question whether he could continue to work with her as he'd promised so many months ago. Seven months apart and it was still too fresh. And then Hannah had arrived in DC and he'd clung to her like a life preserver.

It wasn't until this latest case that he'd even allowed himself to consider what Bones was doing with her evenings and weekends. He still didn't know for sure, but he suspected she'd been working late every night, at least since Lauren Eames' body had been discovered.

The only reason he'd known to follow her to Woodland was because he'd gotten a call from the night watchman who, despite his worry that he was out of turn, was concerned about Dr. Brennan. The thought of what would have happened if he hadn't been there made him sick.

Exhausted, he laid down on her couch, just to rest his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Brennan stood leaning against the railing, staring out across the ocean. The gentle rocking motion of the ship lulled her into mindlessness. The sun was about to peek over the horizon. Anticipation of this sunrise flooded her mind with a memory of a conversation she'd once had with Angela about sunsets being more beautiful when you share them with someone you love.

She ached at the thought, Booth's face flashing across her mind.

Deliberately pushing thoughts of him away for the moment, she tried to make sense of the last couple of days.

_When she left her apartment early Tuesday morning she'd stopped at an ATM for some cash and then checked into a hotel. At the payphone in the lobby, she held a yellow post-it with a phone number on it and dialed with shaky fingers. _

_After three rings, a computer-generated voice informed her that she could leave a message. Quietly, she spoke into the mouthpiece, choosing her words carefully. "It's me. I need to get away for a few days. Could you arrange something anonymous and meet me outside the Starbucks at Union Station tomorrow morning at 9:45? I'll bring cash." She considered for a moment and then also left her hotel and room number in the message, in case he needed to contact her before the next morning._

_Feeling nervous and a little silly for the secrecy, she hung up the phone and hurried to her room._

_The next morning at 9:40 Brennan stood outside the Starbucks at Union Station. She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath when she spotted the man she'd been waiting for._

_He handed over an envelope with a wary, "It's all in there. Everything you'll need. You'd better hurry, though, the ship is scheduled to leave at four."_

_He nodded towards an empty table in the corner. When they had settled into their chairs, he opened the envelope and showed her the paperwork. _

"_A cruise to Canada?"_

"_You said you wanted to get away for a few days. Somewhere isolated. You don't get much more isolated than at sea."_

"_But they will require a passport and Booth could—"_

"_Don't worry about it. As long as you don't get off the ship when they port, you're fine." If he was surprised by her concern that Booth might be looking for her, he didn't show it._

"_How did you manage that?"_

_He regarded her seriously for a moment. "Do you really want to know?"_

_Without hesitation she answered, "No."_

"_Just ask for Horatio when you board."_

_She raised her eyebrows questioningly, but didn't respond._

_She pressed an envelope filled with cash into his hand and murmured, "Thank you."_

_He considered refusing, but knew she wouldn't take no for an answer._

_After a brief silence she looked at her hands and then raised her eyes back to his. "Aren't you going to ask?"_

_He pursed his lips and shook his head. "You're coming back, right? As soon as the cruise is over?"_

"_Yes," she whispered, feeling tears building in her throat. "I'll be back on…" she consulted her paperwork, "Saturday." She met his eyes again. "I'm not _leaving_. I just need a vacation."_

"_Alone," he clarified._

"_Yes," she choked. _

"_You want some company to New York? I could drive you."_

"_No. I'm going to catch a train. I just need…I just need some time to process a difficult case. I've got some things to think about."_

"_Does anyone else know where you're going?"_

"_No. But...could you call Angela and let her know that I'm okay. I know she'll worry, because I haven't spoken to her, but I just—" she broke off._

_He looked at her with concern. "Of course. Anything else you want me to tell her?"_

"_Tell her…" she took a deep breath. "Ask her to tell Booth I'm okay, and that I'm not angry…tell her to make sure he knows I'm not leaving because of anything he did. I just need to get away for a little while."_

"_Do you want me to call Booth?"_

"_No," she answered a little too quickly. "No. Just tell Angela to give him the message."_

_He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Can I give you a hug?"_

_She smiled weakly and gave her assent. He stood, pulling her into a tight hug and whispered, "I love you" in her ear._

_She pulled back so that they were at arm's length. "Thank you, dad."_

_He dropped his hands from her shoulders and said, "Anytime, baby. You know that."_

Footsteps behind her startled Brennan out of her reverie. She turned to see a dark-haired man in his late-thirties, holding two paper cups of coffee. He raised the cup in his right hand, "Cream and sugar," and the one in his left, "and black. What's your poison?"

She was taken aback. "No thank you."

"C'mon, you look lonely. I thought maybe you could use a friendly ear."

She regarded him suspiciously. "I'm not looking for a romantic or sexual partner," she stated bluntly. She knew that it was not socially appropriate to be so straightforward with a stranger, but she'd found in the past that it generally resulted in a hasty retreat of said stranger.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Weeeellll," he drawled. He blew out a forceful breath that caused the front of his dark hair to elevate slightly. With a chuckle he said, "You're not really my type anyway. I just thought you looked like you could use a friend. Also…you look really familiar."

Still suspicious, she said, "That sounds remarkably like a comment meant to initiate a conversation that will lead to courtship." Fixing him with a steely glare, she reiterated, "I'm not interested."

He chuckled again. "You've got trust issues, you know." After a moment he admitted, "I'm gay. I promise I'm not trying to 'initiate a courtship.' And you really _do_ look familiar. I just thought you looked like you could use a friend."

She didn't answer so he continued, "I'm here because my parents wanted to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary with me and my sisters. I'm an early riser, and you looked lonely so I thought I'd bring you a coffee and say hello. No ulterior motives. I promise." He flashed a charming smile and introduced himself, "I'm Benjamin Porterhouse. Your turn."

She hesitated, then gestured to the coffees. "Which one has cream and sugar?" she asked with a cautious smile.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: I don't want you guys to get used to daily updates, but this was originally meant to be chapter 3, when I realized that I needed to take a peek at Brennan, thus the actual chapter three. Then I had to monkey with this one just a bit to make it all fit together nicely. I hope you enjoy!_

Booth woke with a start to find himself in the Jeffersonian, in Bones' office. The lab was dark, and the only sound he heard were faint footsteps the lab.

He sat up, his mouth like cotton and sand in his eyes and looked at his watch. It was after midnight. It had been just before six pm Wednesday evening when he'd arrived to talk to Angela about Bones, which meant he'd been asleep for six hours. It was the longest he'd slept since Bones disappeared.

He stretched his limbs experimentally, working the kinks out of his back and shoulders. He scrubbed his hand over his face and tried to figure out what the hell he was doing.

He glanced at his phone. No text messages or missed calls, even from Hannah. He wasn't really surprised. He'd ignored most of her attempts to communicate since he'd realized that Bones had fled, and she had left that morning to follow the president on a trip to the Middle East.

_Why _have_ you been shutting Hannah out?_

He kept trying to convince himself that he was just worried about Bones; that when she got back and he knew she was okay, everything would return to normal.

But it still needled him. He didn't want to analyze why Bones' absence should be more important than Hannah's presence. _You're just worried about her, that's all. It's nothing more than that._

Now if only he could make himself believe it.

Frustrated that he couldn't seem to avoid this train of thought, Booth pushed himself up off the couch, and hoped he could get the hell out of there without setting off any alarms.

On his way out, he caught sight of a night watchman. "Excuse me!"

The man turned. "You're Agent Booth." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. Are you…are you the one who called me about—um, Dr. Brennan, the other night?"

He stuck out his hand. "Micah Robertson. I hope I wasn't out of line."

Booth shook his hand. "Seeley Booth. And no. Not at all. I'm glad you called."

Micah hesitated. "I understand she took a leave of absence?"

"Yeah. She did."

"Good for her. Don't get me wrong, it's a little lonely without her here at night, but she could certainly use a few days off."

Booth was surprised. "Are you guys…friends?"

Micah laughed gently. "We talk sometimes. Occasionally I bring her food. I've even called her a cab and sent her home a few times."

"Oh, well…thanks for that."

"She's a fascinating woman," Micah said with a knowing smile.

"Oh yeah?" he asked suspiciously.

Micah held up his hands, palms facing out. "I meant no disrespect. Just that she's one of a kind."

Booth took a half step backward. "She certainly is," he offered. He started to turn away, but then paused. "Has she…has she been working a lot of nights lately?"

Micah raised his eyebrows, as if surprised. "She's been here a good bit." He spoke slowly, weighing his words. "She seemed very…determined to find out what happened to that surgeon."

"Yeah. Thanks, man. Nice to meet you."

Booth nodded at him and headed for the door. I didn't occur to him until he got into his SUV that Micah didn't seem at all surprised to see him there, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night.

oOo

Thursday around midday, Booth was sitting at his desk staring at paperwork that was swimming in front of his eyes when he looked up to see Angela entering his office. Her very presence at the Hoover was unusual, and it immediately threw up a red flag. But she didn't seem worried. She looked angry.

"Booth." Accusation dripped from her voice.

"Did she call you?"

"Why didn't you tell me that you saw her that night?"

"What did she say?"

They stared at one another for a moment.

Finally, Angela spoke. "It wasn't Brennan who called me. It was Max."

His stomach bottomed out. _Oh, God_. "What happened—did she-is she okay?"

At the look on his face, Angela's voice softened a little. "She's okay, Booth. That's not why he called."

Angela crossed her arms and resumed her air of annoyance. "Funny you didn't think to mention that you _saw her_ just before she disappeared. What did you do? I thought it was just this case that was freaking her out, but then I find out that you were running around with her in the middle of the night right before she bolts? Do you really think that's a coincidence? The very fact that you didn't _mention it_ tells me that you feel guilty. Responsible." She fixed him with an angry glare. "_What did you do_?" She enunciated each word carefully.

His voice was rough when he tried to speak. "Angela, I don't—I didn't—" He took a deep breath and stood up, palming the back of his neck. "I can't do this here. C'mon."

She looked at him doubtfully, but she followed him to his SUV. He briefly considered heading to the diner, but quickly discarded that idea. He didn't want to have this conversation in public, and it would probably be better if he didn't have to maintain eye contact. He began driving with no particular destination in mind.

"Please, Angela, what did Max say?" he pleaded, trying to keep the desperation he was feeling out of his voice.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she said humorlessly.

Booth shifted in his seat, smoothing his tie while he considered how much to reveal.

"I got a call from the night watchman at the Jeffersonian Monday night—or Tuesday morning. Whatever. He said Bones had discovered something about how Lauren Eames died and was calling a cab to take her to where we found the body. It was like, twelve thirty at night when he called. So I followed her. She almost—" he paused for a moment. "She almost got run over by a car. I…I saved her. Pulled her out of the way. And then she…she told me she'd figured out how the surgeon died." He related what Bones had told him. "She's probably right. I bet that's exactly what happened. So we got in my SUV and I was going to take her home. At first she just seemed pleased to have figured it out, I think. Peaceful. But then she was shivering and tense and…I don't know. I've never seen her like that before. Vulnerable. So then she suddenly tells me to pull over. She sounded…panicked. Worried."

They were stopped at a red light and he closed his eyes briefly, picturing how Bones had looked. Worried. Scared. Secretive.

"So I pulled over and she immediately jumped out and hailed a cab. I tried to stop her. I tried-I tried to convince her to let me take her home, but she…she shoved me away and told me to leave her alone. She was…angry. I'm not sure what I did. And I was so shocked that she was in the cab and pulling away before I could even react. I drove by her apartment a little while later and I saw her lights on, so I knew she made it home safely, but…"

"Why didn't you go up? Try to talk to her?"

"Ange, tell me what Max said."

Resigned, she answered, "He said that Brennan is fine. She's just off by herself for a few days. She asked him to call me so that I wouldn't be worried about her. Her message was that she's fine. She just needed a few days off, and…" annoyance crept into her voice again, "And to tell you that it's okay. She's not angry with you; she just needed to go away for a few days to process this case. I'm supposed to make sure you know you didn't do anything wrong."

The look on her face indicated she wasn't so sure Booth deserved this absolution. Booth wasn't entirely sure he deserved it either; though he couldn't quite name the cause of the guilt he was feeling.

She continued, "Max said she actually used those words: 'process this case.'"

Booth was silent.

"Booth? She called _Max _for help after she ran away from _you_." Her words twisted a knife in his gut.

She didn't have to spell it out any more than that for him.

"What the hell _happened_?"

"I don't know! She was so…well, you saw how she was with this case. She was _feeling_ instead of thinking, and I think she—" he broke off, choosing his words carefully. "She saw herself in that surgeon. That helicopter pilot? He said that he—" He stopped himself and blew out a forceful breath, immediately regretting his words. He wasn't ready to voice his suspicions. Hell, he wasn't ready to admit it to _himself_, and he certainly didn't want to have this conversation with Angela.

"Yeah, I know. She told me about your interview. Booth do you think that-?"

He cut her off, not wanting to hear the rest of her question. "I don't know what to think. But when I tried to take her home the other night…she was fine at first. Almost happy, it seemed, to have figured out what happened to Dr. Eames. I offered to call you so she wouldn't be alone."

The look on Angela's face changed slightly, as if his words sparked a realization.

"Then she was…frantic. And when she told me to leave her alone…she seemed…pissed. I couldn't figure out what I'd done. I'm just-I'm worried about her, okay? But I'm glad Max called to let you know she's okay. Did he say…I mean, when is she coming back?" He almost didn't ask, because he was a little afraid of the answer.

"Sometime this weekend."

He sighed in relief. She'd be back in a few days. "Did he say anything else? Even a hint about where she is?"

"The man knows how to keep secrets."

They drove in silence back to the lab.

When Booth pulled up to the curb, Angela climbed out, but stopped for a moment with the door open. "You said she was fine until you offered to call _me_ to come be with her?"

Booth nodded.

"And?" she questioned him.

"And what, Angela? She said 'no.' She said she was fine alone."

She raised one eyebrow. "C'mon, Booth. You know better than that. I think you know what this is really about." She regarded him silently for a moment, then shook her head in disappointment. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Call me if you-" but she slammed the door before he could finish his sentence.

Booth watched her walk into the Jeffersonian with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Hannah would be gone through the weekend, for which he was thankful. He had some things to figure out. He couldn't keep shutting her out and expect her to understand indefinitely. He was just so angry with himself and the fact that she was here felt like little more than a reminder that Bones _wasn't_.

It certainly wasn't Hannah's fault that Bones had fled. He was pretty sure the blame for that rested squarely on his shoulders. He thought about what Angela said, that Bones hadn't panicked until he'd offered to call Angela. His mind raced, making connections that unsettled him. Unwanted suspicions gnawed at him, possibilities that threatened to ruin the precarious balance he'd fought so hard for since his return from Afghanistan.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: Okay, okay. Three days in a row! It just so happened that the stars (and more importantly, naptimes) aligned themselves such that I was able to pound out another chapter. Also, I'm just really feeling this story at the moment. I've got all these ideas just dying to pop out of my head and onto the page._

* * *

><p><em>He flashed a charming smile and introduced himself, "I'm Benjamin Porterhouse. Your turn."<em>

_She hesitated, then gestured to the coffees. "Which one has cream and sugar?" she asked with a cautious smile._

Brennan took the offered coffee and said, "Temperance Brennan. Thank you."

"Temperance," he repeated. "That's an unusual name."

Her expression pinched slightly. "Yes. _Unusual._"

"Hey—are you that mystery writer?"

She flushed slightly. She never could quite get used to her minor celebrity status. "That's me."

Flustered, he confessed, "I've never actually read your books. I own a bookshop in Philadelphia. Used, but my passion is rare and antique books. My family likes to say I don't read books that were written after the invention of the printing press," he quipped. "One of my sisters, Evie, is a fan, though. That must be why you look familiar."

"It must be difficult to procure reading material that was created before the invention of the printing press."

He regarded her for a moment and then replied, "You're very literal, aren't you?"

Her eyebrows rose. "That was a joke?"

He smiled kindly. "Yes."

"Oh," she answered, and then attempted to change the subject. "Why did you approach me?"

He looked at her in surprise. "I told you. You looked lonely. I saw you last night at dinner, eating by yourself. Then I saw you alone again this morning and I thought you could use some company."

Despite the fact that he seemed sincere, she was suspicious. Brennan was well aware of her weaknesses, and reading people, especially strangers, topped the list. She contemplated his words while simultaneously attempting to find an alternate explanation for his behavior. If he really was a homosexual, then sexual companionship was obviously not a motivating factor. She regarded him skeptically, unsure of whether she could trust her instincts that he was in earnest.

After careful consideration, she finally spoke. "You're not going to ask me to participate in a ruse to convince your family that you're a heterosexual are you? I'm not interested in a relationship at the moment, even one based on pretense."

He laughed out loud. "You really don't pull any punches, do you?"

She looked perplexed. "I feel no urge to strike you."

"Wow." He was bent over double laughing.

She was taken aback, but she didn't feel like he was laughing ather expense, or that he was being unkind. He just found her amusing.

When he caught his breath he straightened and replied, "You really are something else. To answer your question: no. There is no 'pretense of heterosexuality' to perpetuate. They know I'm gay. In fact, I think they're eager for me to get back out there."

At her puzzled frown he continued, "I just got out of a long, serious relationship. Greg and I had been together almost five years. That was just a few months ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. It took me a while to realize it, but we weren't right for each other."

They walked in companionable silence for several moments before Benjamin spoke again, "Do you mind if I ask why you're taking a cruise alone?"

"Well, since you already asked, I don't suppose it matters if I mind or not."

He glanced sideways at her to see a crooked smile twisting her mouth.

"Ah," he chuckled. "Okay…perhaps I should have been more straightforward. Why are you taking a cruise by yourself?"

Brennan stopped and leaned against the rail, looking out across the water. She considered, weighing the risks and benefits of confiding in a stranger. She glanced at him furtively. He _seemed_ to be a decent enough person. Her impression of him was that he was kind and friendly. The idea of divulging the whole mess to complete stranger and getting an outsider's perspective on the situation had merit. Besides, she only had to reveal as much detail as she desired.

Despite her long silence, Benjamin waited patiently next to her, seemingly in no hurry.

Taking a deep breath, she began, "I just needed to get away for a little while. There's…a man…who is very important to me. He's one of my closest friends. I realized recently that I have feelings for him. _Romantic _feelings."

He smiled at her clarification.

She frowned thoughtfully and continued, "That's not entirely accurate…I've been cognizant of my feelings for some time. I realized recently that I was finally prepared to take the risk of pursuing a relationship with him. But he's with someone else…" she launched into the story, keeping the details deliberately vague.

When she finished, he asked, "Why did you turn him down when he asked for more?"

She studied her hands. "I have a…complicated past. I'm not very adept at commitment or relationships. I thought…I thought that I could preserve our relationship as it was." She paused. "I didn't consider that if he 'moved on', our dynamic would be altered." She shook her head in amazement at that oversight. "We have a…" she searched for an accurate word to describe Sweets other than psychologist, "colleague…who once said we were engaging in a 'surrogate relationship.' I think that what he meant by that was that we _were _essentially in a romantic relationship, but without the sexual component. I don't put much stock in psychology and I dismissed it as ridiculous at the time, but now…"

He smiled in understanding. "So when you both came back to the States, you expected to pick up where you left off."

She nodded. "Yes. He once told me 'there's more than one kind of family.' But now that he's building a life with someone else…" She pulled in a shaky breath and felt tears spring to her eyes. "I feel like I've lost this family, too."

"So how are you going to tell him?"

"I'm not."

He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? Do you think you can keep this a secret and continue to work with him? You described him as being very intuitive; you said he knows you better than anyone. You don't think he'll figure it out?"

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I said he _knew _me better than anyone. Since we returned he's been…sometimes I feel like he doesn't see me. Like he's trying _not _to see me. Which makes me wonder…" she was almost afraid of voicing her hope that Booth might still harbor feelings for her. She sighed. Insight into the inner workings of the metaphorical heart were not her strength.

_Brain and heart, Bones. Brain and heart. _She could almost hear his voice in her head.

She cleared her throat. "This is _my _fault. I rejected him, I agreed that he should move on, I _abandoned_ him, and I've been pretending to be happy for him for months now. It wouldn't be fair to him to reveal this now."

"Pretending? You're not happy for him?"

She contemplated the question, sorting through the emotional turbulence she'd experienced since they'd walked away from the Hoover that night. "I am happy that he's happy. But seeing him happy with her also arouses feelings of sadness, loneliness...jealousy," she whispered the last word, then shrugged.

Sensing that a subject change was in order, Benjamin said, "Would you like to see something interesting? You're an anthropologist, right?"

"Forensic anthropologist, yes."

"C'mon." He bumped her shoulder with his and gestured ahead of them.

Curiously, she followed him until he stopped at a cabin door. "If you're uncomfortable, you don't have to come in. I can bring it out here."

His comment surprised her, because she realized she didn't feel uncomfortable with him, strangely enough. "No, it's fine. I am capable of fending off attack," she answered with a smile.

He stepped into the room, then rummaged in a suitcase and retrieved a large black plastic box. Smoothing the messy bedcovers, he set it on the bed, then returned to the suitcase for a pair of thin, cotton gloves. He offered one to her, which she took with a questioning look.

When he opened the case, she saw half a dozen books, some in pristine condition, some slightly yellowed and cracked with age. Benjamin sorted through them carefully and removed one with his gloved hand.

Brennan gasped and then breathed, "Wow…" She ran her cotton-covered finger over the title, _Through New Guinea and the Cannibal Countries_. "Is this a first edition?"

He nodded, surprised at the intensity of his delight in her pleasure at seeing the book. "Published in 1898. I'm delivering these to a buyer when we stop in New Brunswick. He lives in Edmundston, a few hours drive from the port. I hate to mix business with pleasure, but it was just too convenient," he said with a sheepish grin.

"May I?" she gestured to the book.

"Of course." He removed the glove he was wearing and handed it to her.

Watching her peruse the book reminded him of a kid on Christmas morning. She was so engrossed that she jumped when a knock sounded on his cabin door some time later.

He opened the door and poked his head out. "Yeah…okay. I'll be there in ten minutes."

He closed the door again, and turned to her. "My family is meeting for breakfast in a few minutes. Would you like to join us? My sister Victoria is an archeologist. She's a curator at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. You might find her an interesting conversationalist. And I know that Evie would love to meet you."

She hesitated. The point of this trip was to have some time alone to find a way to cope with her feelings for Booth and handle their partnership when she returned. But Benjamin had shown her extraordinary kindness, and had been generous enough to show her this fascinating text. Also, she just liked him. He was easy company, which was rare for her to find.

Still undecided, she answered, "Exclusive celebrations are necessary for strengthening familial bonds."

His brow creased for a moment before he laughed. "Is that Anthropologist-ese for," he affected a Southern accent and a feminine voice, "'Oh, no, I couldn't possibly'?"

She smiled in return, but shook her head slightly. "I'm not certain it's a good—"

Observing her indecision, he promised, "I won't share any of what you told me. Despite your confessions this morning, I sense you are a very private person. Your secret is safe with me."

She was tempted, which surprised her. But in the end, she realized she wasn't ready to be in the company of a group of strangers, however nice they might be. She shook her head. "No, thank you. I think I'll just grab a bagel and some fruit and eat on the balcony."

"Okay. If you want some company later, maybe we could take another walk together."

"I'd like that." She was surprised to find that she actually meant it.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: Okay. I feel like I'm setting a really bad precedent here with these daily updates, but I just can't seem to stop thinking about this story, and I figured if I've got the chapter finished, there's no reason to postpone posting it, right? Anyway, the next chapter is pretty close to being finished as well, so I'll probably post tomorrow, too. We shall see._

_I know I've said it before, but if you notice any typos, I'd appreciate you pointing them out so that I can fix them. Thanks!_

* * *

><p>Thursday night, Booth was sitting on his couch, nursing a glass of scotch and thinking about the conversation he'd had with Angela earlier that day.<p>

_She called _Max _for help after she ran away from _you, she'd said. The implication made him nauseated. Until this week, he'd have sworn up and down that he was the person Bones trusted most, trusted _implicitly_. The fact that she went to Max, despite the fact that she didn't really trust him made Booth sick.

He'd been flagellating himself since he'd received her text early Tuesday morning, and the knowledge that she'd gone to Max only increased his self-loathing. This whole debacle had forced him to examine the changes in his relationship with Bones. He was forced to face that they finally had become Just Partners.

He swallowed another sip of scotch and shook his head ruefully. He'd promised her that he wouldn't betray her and he wouldn't abandon her, but that's exactly what he'd done. Maybe not intentionally, but that didn't change the fact that he'd hurt her.

He couldn't help picturing the look on her face as she told him to leave her alone. He had been afraid to think about it too much, but he was going to have to face it eventually. This case, the isolation of the victim, the helicopter pilot who was in love with her…it all hit a little too close to home.

_Has she changed her mind?_ He wasn't sure if he wanted to know. If she had, what would he do?

He couldn't just dump Hannah. He wouldn't. That would be an interesting conversation. _So Hannah, you know how I told you Bones and I are just partners? Well, I kind of lied. I've been in love with her for years and she turned me down last year when I asked for more, but she's had a change of heart, so…how soon can you get your stuff out of my apartment?_

The fact that he would even consider it as an option made him very uncomfortable. _If you're still in love with Bones, then what the hell are you doing with Hannah anyway?_

_I love _Hannah_._

_Then why are you so torn up over the _possibility_ that Bones has changed her mind?_

_Ah, but there's the rub. You don't know that Bones _has _changed her mind. Her nervous breakdown and sudden disappearance might have nothing to do with you._

But then he remembered Angela's words, and the look on her face. _I think you know what this is about._ So Angela obviously thought Bones' breakdown had something to do with him.

Round and round he went, trying to sort out his feelings, his obligations, where his allegiances lay.

After hours of contemplation and two glasses of scotch, he realized that there was only one way he could continue to look himself in the mirror. _You're with Hannah. She altered the course of her career to follow you home. You asked her to move in with you. You committed to her. _

And so he resolved that when Hannah came home he was going to find a way to bury his anger and renew his commitment to their relationship. He also vowed that he was going to start trying to spend more time with Bones. Preferably in group settings.

He poured a third glass, downed it in two gulps, and then collapsed on his bed, praying for the oblivion of sleep.

oOo

Brennan divided her time for the next few days between solitude and time with Benjamin. She repeatedly refused his invitations to join his family for meals and various activities, though she did meet most of his family at various times in passing. They all seemed to be as kind and pleasant as Benjamin, but Brennan still wasn't interested in intruding on their family events.

She very much enjoyed his company, and he never asked about Booth again. Instead, they engaged in conversation about their careers, their travels, books, what seemed like an infinite number of common interests.

At one point, baffled by this strange new friendship, Brennan had asked him, "Why are you spending so much time with me? Wasn't the purpose of this trip to celebrate your parents' anniversary with your family? It seems illogical to take time away from them to spend with someone with whom you have no history and no sexual or romantic interest."

He had just smiled at her and continued the conversation she'd interrupted with her question.

When the ship ported in New Brunswick Benjamin had tried to convince Brennan to leave the boat and wander around with him after he met his client, but didn't push when he saw the panic that his suggestion inspired. He didn't ask for an explanation, either, for which she was thankful.

When they ported at St. John the next day, he knew better than even to ask. However, he did make a request of her Friday morning before disembarking. "Would you accompany me to my parents anniversary party tonight? They've reserved a ballroom and we're having a small to-do."

Brennan regarded him skeptically.

"I could use a date," he rushed to explain. "Both of my sisters have their husbands along, and my parents' friends are all couples, too. C'mon…don't make me be the only one alone at this thing."

She sat down on a bench and considered his request, picking at the flaking paint with her fingernails.

After a few moments, he said quietly, "I had a brother."

She looked at him in surprise, trying to understand the relevance of his revelation.

He looked at his hands as he said, "He was four years older than I." His voice was strained. "He had…well, he was diagnosed with autism, but they later decided he had Asperger's Syndrome. He was either a high functioning autistic kid or a low functioning Asperger's. The specialists couldn't seem to agree." Bitterness crept into his tone. "He was…he was my big brother. My hero. But he was socially awkward, straightforward, blunt…weird…sometimes offensive. He had a really hard time in school. When I was in 9th grade, he was in 12th, because he'd been held back. He…committed suicide. He was…everyday at school was like torture for him. Kids can be so…"

Brennan reached out and placed a hand on Benjamin's arm. She knew exactly how cruel children could be.

He looked up in surprise at her touch and she saw tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat and said, "That's why I've been spending time with you. You remind me of him a bit. And you were lonely. I wish someone had gone out of their way to be kind to him."

Completely at a loss, Brennan fumbled to find something to say. "What was his name?"

He smiled and she flushed with pleasure to have said the right thing.

"Julian."

They sat for several moments, sitting with their shoulders touching in silence. Finally, Brennan spoke. "I would be honored to accompany you. But I didn't bring any formal wear."

"Victoria is about your size, and she brought enough dresses to clothe an army. I think she'd probably loan you one."

They smiled at one another. "Okay," she said.

And that is how Brennan found herself dressed in a sapphire blue strapless gown on the final night of the cruise, milling about in the small crowd of the Porterhouse family and friends.

_Victoria and Evie had been delighted to help Brennan choose a dress, and they generously offered to help her with hair and make-up. She found Benjamin's sisters to be almost as easy company as Benjamin himself. As Benjamin had predicted, she and Victoria had a lot in common professionally. The fields of anthropology and archeology were interconnected, and, because Victoria lived and worked in the DC area, they knew many of the same people._

_As she watched them fuss over accessories, she wondered what exactly he had told them about her, but she hadn't been sure how to ask them without seeming rude._

_When Brennan emerged from the bathroom in the sapphire-colored dress, Victoria had commented, "Oh, honey. It's too bad there aren't going to be any eligible young bachelors there tonight. One look at you and any man would be eager to help you get over your heartbreak."_

_Brennan's eyes had snapped to hers in shock. Victoria rushed to explain, "Oh, don't worry. Benji didn't reveal any of your secrets. He's been very guarded about details about you, no matter how much we nagged him to spill. But we've been there. One look at you and we both knew. Beautiful woman like yourself taking a cruise in the middle of winter, alone, spending hours staring at the horizon the way you've been?"_

_Evie piped in, "You don't have to tell us anything. But don't worry, Temperance, it will get easier with time."_

_Brennan considered what they'd said. It reminded her of Micah's comment_, "I've got my own sad story. Just like you, just like everybody."

_The thought that these women really did understand comforted her, however irrationally, and eased the knot of loneliness in her chest by a fraction._

Brennan's thoughts were interrupted when Benjamin put a hand on her elbow and said, "May I have this dance?"

She hesitated, and he teased her, "I promise not to compromise your virtue."

She laughed and said, "I'm afraid my virtue was compromised many years ago." But she grabbed his left hand and allowed his right to settle at her waist. It was an upbeat song, and she twirled and swayed him, laughing and forgetting her sadness for a while.

oOo

The next day when the ship returned them to New York, Brennan was surprised at how disappointed she was to be leaving their company. Benjamin and his entire family had been nothing but kind to her. For the first time she could remember, she understood what people meant when they said their heart swelled with gratitude.

As they said their good-byes, Brennan and Victoria made plans to have lunch the following week, and Brennan promised to send autographed copies of her books to Evie.

Benjamin pulled her into a hug and said, "I'll be in DC in a few weeks for an estate sale. Would you like to grab some dinner?"

She nodded. "Call me and we'll make it a date."

Then she grabbed her bags and turned towards the train station and home.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Okay, the season seven premiere? Oh wow! I love love loved it! I was totally in the Have-They-Ruined-the-Show-with-this-Pregnancy? Camp, but I was pleasantly surprised with how they handled it last night. I'm now hopeful that they can do this! (They meaning the writers, not B & B. She's pregnant. They can obviously DO this;-)._

_Okay. Here's another chapter. There is a distinct possibility that I will not have time to post over the weekend. We've got birthday festivities that will be very time-consuming, so don't be surprised if you don't hear from me again until next week!_

Brennan entered her apartment Saturday night with feelings of both relief and trepidation. She had achieved a measure of peace during her retreat, especially thanks to her unexpected friendship with Benjamin, but she was doubtful about it's permanence. Back home, surrounded by her friends, and, most worrisome, working with Booth, she wasn't sure how to maintain her calm and composure.

But she wouldn't run away. She _hadn't _run away. This was the first time she'd ever escaped to _confront _troubling emotions rather than to avoidthem. She just needed a little time to deal with the depth of her newly acknowledged feelings for Booth on her own, so that she could continue working with him without burdening him with her change of heart.

She had come to terms with the changes in their relationship. They were just partners now. Colleagues. The time she had spent with Benjamin and his sisters had made her realize that she needed a life outside the Jeffersonian. She resolved to stop working every night and weekend; it was time to start having a social life that was in no way connected to her work. And she was going to begin by having lunch with Victoria.

As she closed the door behind her, she powered up her cell phone for the first time since she'd sent the text to alert her friends and colleagues of her leave of absence. It chimed to indicate that she had messages, but she put it aside for the moment, not quite ready to deal with the worried texts and voicemails she was sure awaited her. She was tempted to delete them all without even checking them.

As she methodically unpacked her belongings, she thought about how unexpectedly pleasant her cruise had been, thanks to Benjamin's kindness and friendship.

She had just dumped a capful of detergent into the washer when she heard a knock on her door. Her stomach dropped, and suddenly she felt light-headed. It couldn't possibly be a coincidence that someone was here less than half an hour after she'd arrived home.

She hesitated. She had been counting on seeing Booth for the first time in a professional setting. She didn't know how to handle his sudden arrival _here._ In fact, she couldn't remember the last time he had set foot in her apartment. He certainly hadn't been here since they'd returned from Maluku and Afghanistan.

She jumped, startled from her thoughts when the pounding became more insistent. He knew she was here. She inhaled shakily, walked to the front door and peered through the peephole. Relief coursed through her body when she saw Angela instead of Booth.

Angela practically tackled her as soon as she opened the door. "Sweetie!"

Brennan had been expecting a litany of questions or accusations, but Angela just hugged her tightly, and then settled herself on the couch. Uncharacteristically unnerved by the silence, Brennan blurted out, "Would you like some tea?"

Angela fixed her with an unwavering glare. "No. I want to know where you've been."

Brennan looked down at her hands as she sat across from her friend. "I just needed to get away for a few days."

Angela was silent, waiting for her to continue.

"I know that…I know that everyone saw how poorly I handled the Eames case. I became irrational and emotionally involved. I saw the way you all looked at me." She finally lifted her eyes. "I solved it, though. I know how she was killed," she said with a hint of defiance.

"I know, Sweetie. Booth told me."

At the mention of Booth's name, panic flitted across Brennan's face, confirming Angela's suspicions as to the reason for Brennan's sudden disappearance.

Angela was torn. She was absolutely furious at Booth for his role in her friend's pain and subsequent flight. But, despite her fierce loyalty to Brennan, she knew it wasn't that simple. Those two had been dancing around each other for years. And she'd seen this same pain in Booth in the weeks before they left for opposite ends of the world. She couldn't focus on exacting revenge on Booth; she needed to help her friend repair their friendship and partnership for both of their sakes.

"He's been worried sick about you, you know," Angela said softly.

Brennan looked away again and attempted to change the subject. "How did you know I was back?"

"Oh, Bren." She smiled impishly. "I have my ways. I was _so worried _about you."

"Does—" she stumbled over the words, catching herself just before she said his name," does anyone else know I'm back?"

"Only Hodgins. I had to explain why I was leaving the house like a bat out of hell at 9:30 on a Saturday night _in my pajamas_, no less. Don't worry. He'll keep a lid on it."

They sat in silence for a moment before Angela said, exasperated, "So? Are you going to spill?"

"I don't have a beverage, Angela."

"Don't give me that. You know what I mean. Why did you leave?"

"I told you, Ange—" she began, but she faltered at the look on Angela's face.

"Sweetie, I know what this is really about. I was hoping that maybe you would come clean, but I can see that's not going to happen."

"Angela, I don't know what you mean." Brennan's heart was racing, and she struggled to maintain her composure.

"Brennan. I saw the look on your face when I mentioned his name. This is about Booth. We both know it. Let's know it together."

"I really don't want to talk about Booth right now."

"Are you going to call him to let him know you're home?"

Brennan wasn't really surprised at Angela's persistence. As she was considering how to respond, she fidgeted with the corner of a throw pillow. "I was thinking that I'd just wait and see him Monday at work."

"Brennan! He is worried sick about you. Imagine how you would feel if he disappeared unannounced for almost a week after acting as strangely as you were before you left. Wouldn't you want him to come to you personally to tell you he was back? Wouldn't you be furious and hurt if he didn't?"

Brennan considered for a moment.

"And besides," Angela added. "He's got Parker this weekend, and Hannah's out of town. You guys can't get into anything too heavy with his kid around, right? Go see him tomorrow. He was totally wrecked when you disappeared."

Curious to know how Angela knew so much about Booth's weekend plans, but desperate to change the subject, Brennan blurted out, "I met someone on my cruise." Technically, that was true. She'd allow Angela to draw her own conclusions.

Angela's jaw nearly hit the floor. "You met someone?" Then, several beats later, "You were on a cruise?"

Brennan nodded, but avoided eye contact.

"And this person is…a man?"

Brennan nodded again. "His name is Benjamin. He owns an antique bookshop in Philadelphia." She deliberately withheld the fact that Benjamin was a homosexual. If Angela believed this man could be a prospective romantic partner for her, she might not poke and prod Brennan about Booth so much. As much as Brennan loathed duplicity, she would be able to handle this whole situation much more easily if no one was aware of her inner turmoil.

Angela was silent. Brennan looked at her.

Finally, Angela spoke, "And you…what? You're involved with him now?"

"We're just friends, but I very much enjoyed his company. He was there with his family to celebrate their parents' 50th wedding anniversary. His sister lives in the area, and we're going to have lunch together next week."

"I…I don't know what to say to that. Are you…do you plan to see him again soon?"

"He travels a frequently for his business. He's supposed to come down for an estate sale in a few weeks. We'll likely have dinner while he's here."

Angela was speechless. She could tell Brennan wasn't telling the whole truth, but Angela was reluctant to call her on it and upset her apparent equanimity at the moment. She'd do some digging on this Benjamin character later.

"Okay, Bren." Angela got up and pulled her into another crushing hug. "I'm glad you're back safe. Call me tomorrow. And think about what I said. I really think you need to go see Booth tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Ange," Brennan murmured as she closed the door behind her friend.

She took a deep breath. Angela was right about one thing. If the situation were reversed, Brennan would want Booth to come to her himself. She shuddered as she remembered those two weeks when she believed that he was dead.

Hugging herself tightly, she slid down the door and pulled her knees to her chest. For the first time since she'd jumped into the cab to flee from Booth, she began to sob.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: I apologize for not replying to some of the kind reviews that you guys left. Unfortunately, things are just crazy around here at the moment, so time is limited. I thought you'd probably prefer a new chapter to a private Thank You. It's likely that I won't have time to respond to every review for a while, so don't expect to hear from me unless you ask a specific question. But, rest assured, your reviews are very much appreciated! Consider this chapter to be a Thank You to all of you who are enjoying the story!_

_Also, I upgraded the rating to T, because there is some language in this chapter. Better safe than sorry, kids!_

* * *

><p>This was Booth's weekend with Parker. Given the limited amount of time he had with his son, these weekends were usually the highlights of his month. But right now he was a mess.<p>

He'd made his decision. He was going to honor the promises he'd made to both Bones and Hannah. He was going to be a better friend to Bones and a better boyfriend to Hannah. He'd spoken to her a few times on the phone, attempting to repair the damage he'd done by shutting her out in the aftermath of Bones' disappearance.

Nothing had changed. As far as he knew, Bones' sudden flight didn't have anything to do with him. Making assumptions and acting impulsively had never gotten him anywhere good where Bones was concerned. It was time to start thinking things through and making rational decisions. The last time he'd followed his heart with Bones, she'd shredded it and handed it back to him in a paper bag.

Problem solved. _Riiiiight._

Still, he wasn't going to let his son down by cancelling, no matter what kind of inner turmoil he was experiencing.

_No. No more turmoil. You've got this figured out._

Also, he hoped that spending the weekend with Parker would prove to be a powerful enough distraction to turn his mind off.

Thus far, he'd been mistaken.

Usually they just hung out and spent a little quality time together. They'd go to the park and throw a ball or hang out and watch football games on the couch all day.

But this weekend, Booth needed to keep moving. So they spent Friday night walking around the mall, checking out monuments. As they passed the Lincoln Memorial, Booth's gut twisted as he pictured sitting there with Bones, so drunk that he was burying his face against her shoulder and grinning like a fool.

The Reflecting Pool held similarly gut-wrenching memories of early-morning coffees and, most painfully, seeing her for the first time after his return from Afghanistan. It wasn't until he'd felt her arms wrap around him that night that he'd realized seven months, thousands of miles, and an affair with a gorgeous blonde hadn't diminished his feelings for her as he'd hoped.

Saturday had been a whirlwind tour of the Smithsonian and a cornucopia of street food. He and Parker had walked for hours, visiting the Air and Space Museum, The American History Museum, and The National Zoo.

Early in the afternoon, Parker had yanked on his arm and said, "Dad! Can we just sit _down _for a minute?"

When Booth looked at him in surprise, he'd added, "Please?"

They sat on a bench and Booth asked, "What's up, bub?"

"Are you going back to Afghanistan?"

Taken aback, Booth spluttered, "What? No! Of course not. I promised you I wasn't going back."

Parker regarded him dubiously for a moment.

"Why are you asking me this, Parks?"

His son stared at his small hands for a moment before answering, "We're just…we don't usually do all this _stuff_ when I'm with you. We usually just hang out. And my friends…well, some of my friends have said their parents acted this way when they had bad news, like they were getting a divorce or something. And you've been acting kind of weird. At first I thought maybe you were mad at me, but if you were, I'd be grounded, not out having hot dogs and going to museums."

Booth regarded his son, surprised by this insight and ashamed that he'd thought Parker wouldn't notice something was wrong.

He sighed. He knew better than anyone that kids are smarter than most adults give them credit for. _Shit. _Even though he hadn't spoken for several minutes, Parker was just watching him, waiting patiently.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I don't have any bad news for you. I promise. I'm just…" he hesitated, but decided an abridged version of the truth was best. "I'm worried about Bones. She was really upset about something last week, and then she took a vacation at the spur of the moment, and I haven't heard from her since she's been gone. I know she's safe, but I'm just worried about her. I was hoping that maybe if we kept busy I wouldn't think about it so much. And you know…" he grinned, "this day had been a lot of fun. We should do stuff like this more often, instead of sitting around on the couch watching sports. Whaddya say?"

Parker grinned. "Sure, dad. And, hey, maybe…" he grinned slyly, "Maybe some ice cream would help you feel better."

Booth chuckled. "It's worth a try."

Booth felt a little lighter now that he didn't have to work so hard to keep up a carefree pretense with his son, but he still found himself dwelling on Bones.

Which is why, despite the fact that it would keep Parker up way past his bedtime, they'd gone to see the Capitals play the Jets in a 9:00 game. He couldn't face going home and putting Parker to bed at 9:00 and then just sitting and staring at the walls for hours. It's not like he could drink himself blind with his kid in the next room. He _wouldn't_ do that.

And so they'd picked up last minute tickets. Parker was thrilled. Booth passed the game in a fog. His thoughts kept returning the fact that Max had told Angela that Bones was coming home sometime this weekend. It was Saturday night. Assuming Max was correct-_and telling the truth_, he thought-she might already be at home. At the very least, she should be back sometime the next day.

_She said she'd call. Quit obsessing. _

_Yeah, but that text wasn't just for you. She sent it to a lot of people. That doesn't mean she's going to call _you _when she gets back. She said she wanted you to leave her alone._

He was yanked back to the present by Parker tugging on his arm. "Dad! Dad! Can we go get some nachos?"

"Sure, bub."

And so the rest of the game went. Hockey was not proving to be an adequate distraction tonight.

They left Verizon Center, and Parker, exhausted from the day's activities, slumped in the backseat and fell asleep almost immediately. Sitting at a red light, Booth's heart ached watching him sleep, marveling at how he'd grown and what a good kid he was. He looked up and saw an auburn-haired woman in a trench coat on the street corner and his heart leaped.

It wasn't Bones, but it made him burn with a sudden desire to be close to her.

He glanced at Parker's peaceful form and made his decision, executing an illegal U-turn and heading to Bones' apartment.

He was shaking slightly as rounded the corner and her building came into view. His stomach bottomed out when he saw that her lights were on.

She'd come home.

And she hadn't called him.

He dropped his forehead to the steering wheel and tried to calm his racing heart and the tumult of emotions coursing through him. He was relieved she was home safely. Simultaneously angry and hurt that she hadn't called him. Desperate to see her again. Terrified of what she might say when he did.

He whispered a prayer, feeling the smooth beads of the Rosary he kept in his console slide through his fingers. The pounding in his chest calmed gradually, and he was just about to put the car in drive and head home when he saw Angela exit the building.

The calm he'd achieved through prayer was snatched away, and rage was suddenly his most salient emotion. She'd been home long enough to call Angela and visit with her, and he hadn't received so much as a text. He clenched the steering wheel.

More than anything he wanted to pound on her door and demand to know _what the fuck is wrong._ He was staring blindly out his windshield when a soft sigh from behind him penetrated his haze of fury. _Shit. _He'd been so wrapped up in thoughts about Bones that he'd actually _forgotten _for a moment that he had Parker in the car with him.

He took a deep breath. That was exactly the wake-up call he needed. No matter how angry and hurt and confused _fucked up _he was feeling about Bones, he wouldn't drag his son along and risk having Parker see him lose control. He wouldn't act like _his _father in front of his son.

He flashed back to a memory of Parker as a toddler, not even two-years-old, watching him and Rebecca scream at each other over his visitation schedule. He had taken an aggressive step towards Rebecca, his fists clenched at his sides, when he realized that Parker had woken from his nap and come into the kitchen. His son's eyes had been wide and fearful. He had vowed that he would never _never _let Parker see him that way again, while simultaneously praying that his son had been too young to remember the incident.

At the moment he was so worried and angry—mostly at himself, though some of it was certainly directed at Bones—that he wasn't certain he could control himself if he saw her right now. He knew that dragging Parker out of the car and confronting her tonight would be a mistake.

Before he had time to change his mind, he shifted into drive and headed home. He half-carried Parker inside and put him to bed in his clothes, figuring that one night of sleeping in dirty clothes and with unbrushed teeth wasn't likely to kill him.

Once Parker was tucked in, he went to the fridge and got a beer. He promised himself that he wouldn't get drunk, but he needed _something _to distract him, to just take the edge off of his anger and help him calm the fuck down.

He held his cell phone is his hand, staring at it and willing it to ring, or chime to indicate she'd texted him. _Anything. _He wished he hadn't driven by her place. Knowing that she was back but still shutting him out was tying him into knots.

What he needed was to go for a run. Just pound the pavement and exhaust himself, but he couldn't leave Parker alone. Instead, he downed his beer, popped two Tylenol PMs and went to bed, where he laid awake tossing and turning until almost four. Finally, he fell asleep, but his dreams were troubled and confusing.

oOo

He and Parker had a routine for Sunday mornings. They would get up around eight to have a light breakfast and watch cartoons together. Then they'd get ready and go to 10:30 mass, after which they had brunch, usually consisting of stacks of pancakes and plates of bacon and sausage.

The times that Bones had joined them after church for brunch she had lectured him on the evils of excessive sugar intake and refined carbohydrates—_it stresses your pancreas!_—and saturated fats—_you are clogging your arteries!_—but Booth had always laughed it off, and tried to tempt Bones with his refined carbs and unhealthy fats while she virtuously ate her oatmeal and fresh fruit. This was yet another activity he realized they hadn't done together since returning several months ago. The past week had been little more than a string of guilty pangs as Booth realized just how little they actually did together anymore. How far they'd grown apart.

He was tempted to skip church this morning, but forced himself to get up and get ready anyway, for several reasons.

First, Parker's religious education was…well, to say it was somewhat lacking would be putting kindly. Rebecca only attended church on Easter and Christmas. As a result, Parker attended mass, at most, every other weekend when he was with Booth.

Second, he was hoping that he could find some comfort in the familiar ritual of mass. Even though he'd made his decision regarding his relationship with Bones, he still hadn't managed to turn his mind off. He was still worrying about her, and trying to figure out where she'd gone and why she didn't want him to find her. Wondering when she was going to call and let him know she'd made it home. Vacillating between anger at himself for having fucked things up so much, anger at her for just taking off, and hurt and confusion about the whole damn situation.

The longer she waited, the more he thought that perhaps she _was _angry with him, regardless of what she'd told Max to tell Angela to tell him. He thought of that kids game, Telephone, when you sit in a circle and pass a whispered message from person to person, then see how much it changed as it was whispered. It both pained and infuriated him that _she _hadn't just called him. Or texted him. Hell, he'd have been happy with a telegram.

Which brought him full-circle to the question of why she didn't want to be found.

Mechanically, he went through the motions of feeding Parker breakfast, though his stomach was so tied in knots he'd barely choked down half a piece of toast and a few sips of coffee. Half an hour later he found himself standing in front of his mirror tying his tie with no memory of putting on his clothes.

Frustrated with himself, he yanked the tie off and threw it on the bed. Taking a deep breath to calm down, he called, "You ready, bub?"

They were quiet on the drive to church. Booth could feel Parker glancing at him from time to time, and he knew his son was concerned about him, which just added guilt for worrying his son to the tornado of conflicting emotions roiling in his chest.

"Where do you want to go for brunch, bub?"

"Mom's picking me up from church, remember? Jason's birthday party is this afternoon and we've got to go choose a present for him."

"Oh, right."

And silence descended again.

After mass was over, Booth lowered himself to the kneeler again and said to Parker, "Just give me a second, bub."

He closed his eyes and prayed for peace and wisdom. Then he was suddenly reminded of the time Bones had accompanied him here, right after he'd pulled her out of the earth. His heart clenched when he realized just how close he'd been to losing her forever then. He remembered the despair he'd felt when the clock had zeroed and they'd all believed that Bones and Hodgins were out of air.

He pushed himself up abruptly, not wanting to dwell on this train of thought. _Deep breaths,_ he said to himself as he thrust his hand in his pocket and fingered his poker chip.

The parking lot was almost empty by the time the emerged. Rebecca's car was parked at the curb. He hugged Parker and then opened the door, leaning down to talk to her. "I forgot you were picking him up here, so I didn't bring his stuff. I can…I can run it by later this evening."

"Don't worry about it, Seeley. He didn't bring his school bag, and he can get all of the rest of his stuff later."

Booth nodded and said good-bye to Parker again, then stood and watched them drive away, his heart sinking.

He collapsed on a bench and sat forward, cradling his head in his hands. Everything felt…wrong, and he didn't know how to right it. He was lost in thought when he heard a familiar voice say his name.

His head snapped up. "Bones?"


	9. Chapter 9

Brennan had woken at least a half dozen times during the night, and every time Angela's words had echoed in her mind, _Wouldn't you want him to come to you personally to tell you he was back? Wouldn't you be furious and hurt if he didn't? _

Angela was undoubtedly correct, but Brennan wasn't sure what to do. Call him? Knock on his door? Then she remembered that the next day was Sunday. She could catch him after church, assuming that he still attended mass at the same time that he had a year ago.

It was nearly 5 am, and more sleep seemed unlikely, so she threw back the covers and decided to go for a run to work off some nervous energy.

After her run, she took a long shower, making the water so hot that her skin was bright red and she felt light-headed when she stepped out.

She dried her body methodically, silently naming the bones of each part of her body as she dried in an effort to avoid worrying about seeing Booth.

As she combed her wet hair, she regarded herself in the mirror. She catalogued the physical changes to her body. A few more laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. Her breasts were less firm than they had been a decade age, her skin less supple.

It was easier to focus on the physical changes than to contemplate the personal transformation that had been set in motion when she met Booth seven years ago.

She attempted to pass the time reading a recent journal that contained several articles of interest, but when she read a passage for the third time and still couldn't comprehend its meaning, she decided it was futile.

Determined not to sit and worry endlessly, she began cleaning. When it was finally time to leave, her kitchen and living room were spotless, and all of the laundry was clean and put away.

It was finally time to go. She pulled on her trench coat, retrieved her keys and purse and carefully locked the door behind her.

Brennan fidgeted nervously in the back of the cab. When the driver pulled into the circular drive in front of the church, she noted that Booth's SUV was there. She was both relieved and terrified.

Before she could change her mind, she paid the driver and looked at her watch. 11:20. She likely had at least ten minutes to wait before the service would end.

When a crowd of parishioners flooded out if the main door, Brennan felt her stomach flip uncomfortably. She wasn't sure what kind of reaction to expect from Booth. He was likely both angry with her and worried about her while she was away. He might not appreciate being ambushed, but she felt like she would be able to handle this encounter better if she were prepared and she didn't want to do this over the phone.

The crowd dispersed, but she still didn't see Booth. She frowned and looked at the license plate on the SUV. She was certain that this was Booth's vehicle. Trembling slightly, she wondered what she should do. Perhaps he was still inside?

She sat down on the curb and began nervously shredding leaves. A short while later she heard his voice, and when she looked up he was hugging Parker, and then leaning into a car to speak to the driver while his son climbed in the back seat. Assuming it must be Rebecca and not wanting to intrude, she stepped behind the SUV to conceal herself until Rebecca pulled out.

She observed him as he watched the car leave. As soon as the car turned a corner his shoulders drooped and his smile disappeared. She saw him slump onto a bench and bury his face in his hands.

Taking a depth breath and steeling herself, she stepped towards him and called his name.

His head snapped up. "Bones?"

Booth desperately wanted to jump up and wrap her in his arms. But the memory of her last words to him, _leave me alone_, echoed in his head, so instead he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. He was determined to let her set the terms of this encounter.

Brennan was taken aback by his response. He wasn't even looking at her; instead he was examining his shoes with some avidity. She was forcibly reminded of a conversation they had about her decision to go to Maluku when he refused to meet her eyes.

She had come here this morning because Angela had convinced her that Booth was worried about her and would want to know she had returned, but his welcome was less than enthusiastic. She hadn't been sure what to expect, but that he might be indifferent to her presence, that he might _ignore _her, hadn't made the list of possibilities. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she considered what to do.

Feeling unsure, and wondering if she shouldn't have come, she said softly, "Booth?"

When she repeated his name, he eyes raised his eyes to meet hers, but he still said nothing. Dark circles under his eyes stood out in contrast to his uncharacteristically pale face.

The silence seemed to stretch between them, punctuated only by the sound of passing traffic.

Finally, he spoke. "What are you doing here, Bones?" His voice was strained, and she detected a little bitterness in his tone as well. His jaw worked and hit bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to keep his hands in his pockets and off of her.

"I just…I came to see you?" It should have been a simple statement, but he heard the question in her voice, as if she were looking to him for a cue. She looked distressed and uncertain.

Suddenly uncaring of the consequences, he grabbed her and pulled her into a crushing hug just as she began, "Booth, I—"

As soon as she was pressed against him, he felt a peace he couldn't quite name. Whole. It was as if she'd taken a piece of him with her and now that she'd returned he felt whole again.

"God, I missed you," he breathed in her ear.

It took him about three seconds to realize that holding her was dangerous. He'd finally gotten his head on straight, but just feeling her in his arms made him begin to question everything again.

And just as suddenly as he'd embraced her, he released her and stepped back. He saw tears shining in her eyes as she answered, "I've missed you, too, Booth."

He sensed that she was referring to more than just the past week, and an all-too-familiar wave of guilt washed over him.

A litany of questions cycled through his head. _Why did you leave? Where did you go? Why didn't you call me as soon as you got back? Are you back for good? Are you mad at me? What the hell is going on with you? Are you okay? _

But instead he asked, with forced casualness, "So where'd you go, Bones?"

Her eyebrows raised in surprise at his cavalier tone. "I went on a cruise."

"You went on a…" he cleared his throat. "Where?"

"To Canada."

"But you didn't use your passport," he countered, and immediately regretted this revelation.

Then again, she had to figure he was going to look for her, or she wouldn't have gone to Max; she could have just called her travel agent. Her eyes widened and he shrugged.

Brennan was surprised at the rush of relief and pleasure that she felt at this admission that he'd tried to find her_. _She clung to this scrap of proof that at least _some _things hadn't changed between them. She could examine the irrationality of simultaneously desiring not to be found but also to be searched for later; for the moment, her focus was on Booth.

They sat down on the bench, shoulders not quite touching.

After a brief silence he asked, "Why did you leave?"

She drew in a deep breath. "I just needed some perspective. I had some…things to figure out."

"And did you? Figure things out?" His voice was rough.

"I believe I did."

"So?"

She turned to face him, her eyebrows raised.

"So what did you figure out?" he clarified.

She didn't answer right away, but he could tell she wasn't avoiding the question, just choosing her words carefully.

Finally, she said, "I realized that my work is not enough anymore. I realized that I need to cultivate relationships with people outside of my professional life. I need to…broaden my horizons." She paused and then leaned toward him and continued in a confidential tone, "That's a colloquialism that means I need to engage in more varied leisure activities and expand my social circle."

A faint smiled curved his lips. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"Well, I'm having lunch with a new acquaintance, Victoria Marinello, this Thursday."

"Oh?" He looked slightly amused. "And where did you meet her?"

Brennan struggled to calm her racing pulse. She wasn't planning to lie to Booth, but, as with Angela, she had decided to omit a certain key fact about Benjamin. It would be simpler if everyone believed that there was a possibility, however remote, that she might someday become romantically involved with him.

Besides, it wasn't her place to reveal personal facts about him, and sexual orientation, especially when it deviated from the norm, certainly qualified as personal.

"I met her on the cruise. Initially I was befriended by her brother, Benjamin, and we enjoyed one another's company very much, but I also spent some time with his sisters. Victoria lives in the DC area. She is an archaeologist, a curator at the Smithsonian, and we have lunch plans this week."

Booth's entire body became rigid at the mention of Benjamin. _She met someone? _He studied her face, trying to figure out what this meant.

_Not that it's any of your business, _he told himself. _She _should _have someone. You just want her to be happy. _

But in the back of his mind was a nagging feeling that he'd always thought that would happen with him. He thought of the totems he'd burned for her in Founding Fathers after the case with the witches, wishing for her happiness. He'd secretly been wishing for _their _happiness. _Together. _Not that he'd admitted that to her.

_You just resolved to fix things with Hannah, and now you're jealous that Bones might have met someone? Don't be an asshole._

"So…tell me about this…Benjamin."

"He owns an antique bookshop in Philadelphia."

"And are you…I mean, is he-?" he broke off when she looked at him sharply.

"Are you attempting to ascertain whether or not I had intercourse with him?"

Booth flushed guiltily. "Right to the point, like always, huh, Bones?"

"Benjamin and I are just friends. We have a plethora of common interests. It is possible for a man and a woman to be friends without a sexual component." He could tell she was being truthful, but suspected she was also holding something back. He wasn't certain he was ready to hear it anyway, so he let it go.

Booth was quiet for a moment, considering. The relief that he felt when she confirmed that she was "just friends" with this man was a little troubling, but now wasn't the time to analyze that.

He was a little concerned that this Benjamin might actually be interested in Bones, regardless of what he told her. Reading social cues wasn't her strength.

On the other hand, she probably just stated it outright to him. Something along the lines of _"I am not interested in engaging in sexual intercourse with you, but if you'd like to converse, I'd be delighted to participate in spirited debate about a myriad of topics." _He smiled to himself at the thought.

Then again, there were some men who might just see that as a challenge. _Relax. Bones can take care of herself._

"What?" she asked him, curious about his sudden smile.

He glanced at her, mildly surprised for the warmth in her gaze. "Oh…I was just imagining what you said to him when he approached you. I'm guessing you told him outright that you weren't interested, but you probably said it in Squint-ese."

"What makes you think I wasn't interested?"

He looked stricken for a split-second, but recovered quickly. "Because, Bones, if you'd been interested, then you'd be telling me all about your new sexual partner, instead of your new 'friend.'" He tried to sound cavalier, but her comment unsettled him.

She picked at the front of her sweater. "Well, you were correct. I merely informed him that I wasn't looking for romantic or sexual companionship."

"And he stuck around?"

She nodded, "I'll admit, I was a little surprised myself. Usually that sort of comment results in a rapid retreat." Changing the subject she asked, "Why did Rebecca pick up Parker early? Don't you usually take him home Sunday evening?"

"Yeah, but he had a birthday party this afternoon that he didn't want to miss." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Do you want to—I mean, Parks and I usually go for brunch after mass. You wanna grab a bite?"

She looked at him carefully, and, determining that his invitation seemed sincere, she nodded.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Okay, I'd like to apologize that it took me so long to post this next chapter, but it really gave me fits. This is the fourth incarnation and I'm finally satisfied. I hope it was worth the wait. _

oOo

_"Do you want to—I mean, Parks and I usually go for brunch after mass. You wanna grab a bite?"_

_She looked at him carefully, and, determining that his invitation seemed sincere, she nodded._

Brennan followed him to the SUV and climbed in.

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" His voice was so quiet that Brennan almost didn't hear him.

When she didn't answer right away he continued, "Bones, if I did something—"

Brennan turned her head away from him and blinked back tears. "I just…" she began in a shaky voice. She paused to gather her thoughts, trying to formulate an answer that was both truthful and vague. She shook her head. "I can't talk about this yet." She turned to look at him, and his stomach bottomed out at the sight of the tears in her eyes. "I promise that someday…someday I'll explain."

His jaw flexed as he warred internally, his mind whirling to fill in the blanks. He couldn't remember the last time she was upset and refused to share it with him. But if she _were _angry with him, she wouldn't have shown up here today. Or she'd be letting him have it. Which left…what? He couldn't help but think that this had to be about him. Which kind of made him feel like a narcissistic bastard.

"I followed you home, you know."

"What?"

"That night. I followed you home."

She looked at him in surprise. "You didn't come up."

He looked away from her, focusing on the road ahead of him. "You said you wanted me to leave you alone. But I wanted to be sure you'd gotten home safe."

She pressed her lips together and nodded, not trusting her voice.

They were both silent, and before long they were at the diner, seated at a booth.

"So what do you have going on this week, Bones? We don't have any open cases right now."

"I've got to catch up on paperwork, there are always remains in bone storage to identify, and I have to meet with each of my interns to discuss their dissertations."

He raised his eyebrows. Sometimes he forgot that she was a professor and they were her students.

She looked down at her salad, and said, "I was thinking that I should start bringing my interns to crime scenes. To prepare them for liaising with law enforcement, in case they decide to pursue that avenue of forensic anthropology."

He stilled and watched her. She was deliberately avoiding his eyes. Was she considering giving up fieldwork? "So they'd be coming along with you—to observe?" he clarified.

"At least initially."

He decided to let it drop for now. They'd managed to find some sort of balance and he wasn't willing to rock the boat.

Without thinking he blurted out, "I'm really glad you came to find me today, Bones."

She looked up at him. "I am as well."

oOo

The next day, Brennan worked feverishly, trying to catch up on paperwork that had been neglected as a result of her impromptu vacation. She had worked through lunch, picking at the pasta and fruit salads that Angela had deposited on her desk in the early afternoon.

She deliberately kept herself busy so that her mind would not have the opportunity to dwell on Booth. She was resolved. It was time to separate her professional and personal lives.

Despite her resolution, at 6:30 Booth sailed into her office unexpectedly.

She looked up from her desk in surprise. "Booth."

"Hey, Bones, you wanna grab some dinner?"

She took a moment to answer. "I'm…I'm sorry, Booth, but I have a lot of work to catch up on."

"It's almost seven o'clock. Give yourself a break. C'mon, lets go get a pizza."

She shook her head without looking up from her desk, and then a thought occurred to her. She looked up at him. "Hannah isn't back yet?" There wasn't even a trace of accusation in her voice, just curiosity.

He blinked, and flushed guiltily. "I—what does that have to do with anything?"

She regarded him steadily.

He palmed the back of his neck. "Well, I mean—yeah, her trip got extended, but…I just…we had a great time at lunch yesterday and I realized that we haven't done that much…lately. Just you and me. I thought maybe…" he trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Booth, but I really do have quite a lot of work to do."

"Oh, I—okay." When she went back to her paperwork, he slowly turned and started to leave, but stopped at the door and turned back to her. "How about lunch one day this week?"

Against her better judgment, she nodded.

She watched him leave, noting the slump in his shoulders. For months, Booth had been nothing but professional, keeping distance between them. Brennan wasn't quite sure what to think of his sudden change in behavior. It seemed to her that as soon as she'd made her peace with the metaphorical distance between them, he'd begun attempting to erase it.

If she were someone who believed in karma, she might think she was being punished.

oOo

For the next few days, nothing of note happened. Brennan and Booth still didn't have any open cases, so they were each busy in their respective offices.

They had lunch together twice that week, once with Hannah and once just the two of them. Bones was acting like herself again, and Booth was beginning to think that he'd gotten himself all worked up over nothing. He could do this. He could build a life with Hannah without neglecting his friendship with Bones.

As for his feelings for Bones…that was a little more troublesome. She'd been such an integral part of his life for years now. It was hard to separate his affection for her and protectiveness of her from the love he'd been consumed with before. Was he still in love with her? He really wasn't sure.

The one thing he _was_ sure about were his feelings for Hannah. He loved her. He really did. Maybe it wasn't as…intense as what he'd felt for Bones, but every relationship is different, right? He felt like the best version of himself when he was with her. He was Seeley Booth, former Army Ranger and current FBI Agent; not Seeley Booth, degenerate gambler and abused child of an alcoholic.

If Hannah noticed the change in him after returning from her trip, she didn't comment on it. The balance that he'd found lasted for five days.

oOo

On Friday, a card bearing a return address in Philadelphia arrived at the Jeffersonian, addressed to Brennan. She carefully slit the envelope with her letter opener and out spilled a short note from Benjamin and a 4x6 picture of the two of them that someone had obviously taken at his parents anniversary party. They were dancing, hips pressed together, leaning toward one another and laughing, faces almost touching. On the back he had written, _Just remember, there are better times ahead._

Brennan smiled to herself when she remembered how much fun they'd had that night, dancing and laughing together. For a few hours she had completely lost herself in the moment and forgotten all about Booth and Hannah and the whole metaphorical mess waiting for her in DC.

Brennan started when she realized Angela was standing in her doorway, watching her.

"Sweetie!" The tone of Angela's voice indicated this wasn't the first time she'd tried to get her attention.

"Yes, Angela?"

"What are you looking at?"

"Oh, its…it's just a photo that Benjamin sent me. Someone took a picture of us dancing at his parents' anniversary party."

"Can I see it?"

Brennan reluctantly handed the photo to Angela.

"Wow. You didn't say he was hot. And you two…" Angela narrowed her eyes at Brennan, "you're just friends? This looks like more than that to me. This isn't ballroom dancing…this is more like the Lambada."

Brennan's brow furrowed in confusion, and in a clipped tone, she said, "I can assure you, Angela, that we _are _just friends."

"Okay, sweetie. Sure." Angela affixed the picture to the filing cabinet with a magnet and then opened the folder she was holding. "Here's the facial reconstruction of the latest Jane Doe from limbo. You wanna grab some lunch later?"

"Perhaps. I need at least another hour or so."

"Brennan, it's already one o'clock."

"Excuse me." Brennan and Angela both looked to the doorway. Hannah. "Judging by the look on your face, I'm guessing Seeley didn't warn you I was coming. We're having lunch, but he said he needed to drop something off to you and asked me to meet him here. Is that…do you mind if I sit?"

Angela made a hasty exit.

Just as Hannah was about to sit down, the picture that Benjamin had sent caught her eye. "Wow. Is this the guy you met on your cruise?"

Brennan frowned slightly, wondering exactly how much Booth had shared with Hannah. "Yes."

"Looks like you guys hit it off."

Booth entered her office whistling to himself. He gave Hannah a peck on the cheek and nodded at Brennan. "Hello, ladies." He started to put a file onto Brennan's desk, when the picture Hannah was examining caught his eye.

"Is that—" he choked a little on the words. "Is that Benjamin?" His spine stiffened and he clenched his teeth. Bones was _plastered_ against that guy, his arm wrapped around her waist, one of her arms curled around his shoulder. Laughing, looking completely carefree. In a sinful-looking strapless blue dress that left nothing to the imagination.

When he snapped back to himself, he realized that he was crushing the file folder in his fist and Bones and Hannah were completely silent, watching him. Bones' eyes were filled with confusion, but Hannah's were narrowed in suspicion.

He gulped a breath and said, "Wow, Bones. It looks like you were having a good time." He prayed that his voiced didn't sound as strained as he felt.

He could feel Bones' eyes on him, but he couldn't quite meet them.

Hannah broke in, "Temperance, would you like to have lunch with us?"

Brennan, unsure of what was going on, answered, "No, thank you. I've got to work through lunch because I'm leaving a little early this evening."

Booth and Hannah moved towards the door, but Brennan stopped them. "Booth, could I speak with you for a moment, please?" When Hannah stopped also, Brennan looked at him pointedly and said, "Privately." Then she met Hannah's eyes and said, "It will only take a moment."

Hannah looked surprised, but she nodded and walked out towards the forensics platform.

Booth stepped towards Brennan's desk, burning with curiosity. "What's up, Bones?"

Brennan was trembling with anger, but trying not to betray it. Her eyes were focused on her desk, and her voice came out hard and clipped. "I would appreciate it if you didn't share details of my personal life with Hannah."

"Bones, what are you—I didn't—"

"She knew about Benjamin. What else does she know? It's bad enough that I—" her voice broke.

Suddenly Booth realized what he'd done. _What's between us is ours. _He'd been the one who made that rule, and as far as he knew, Bones hadn't broken it since that conversation about the egg. He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of guilt get heavier.

"I'm so sorry, Bones, I didn't mean to—we live together. She saw how worried I was about you while you were gone, and—"

Brennan didn't think she could bear to hear the rest of his explanation, so she interrupted. Finally looking him in the eye, she said, "I can see that things have changed now that you are with Hannah. I will adjust my behavior accordingly."

"Just what the hell does that mean?"

Brennan's face was closed and completely blank. "It means that I will assume that anything I share with you might be shared with Hannah and so I will be more careful about divulging personal information to you." She sat back down and began typing furiously.

"C'mon, Bones, I messed up. I'm sorry, but don't—don't shut me out."

"Hannah is waiting for you. You should go."

Booth was torn. He knew Bones well enough to know that she was done with this conversation for now, but the prospect of going to lunch with Hannah and pretending that everything was fine seemed impossible. Between that picture of Bones wrapped up in a stranger's arms and now Bones accusing him of betraying her?

He sighed. "Bones, I'm…I'm so sorry. I won't—I promise I won't share anything else personal. I screwed up. I…" she hadn't acknowledged that he was speaking. "I'll see you later," he said and then turned and left before he could fuck things up any worse.


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: Thank you so much for all of the reviews. I apologize for not responding to all of them individually, but please know that I appreciate every single one. _

* * *

><p>Cam strode briskly out of the autopsy suite, heading for Dr. Brennan's office to ask her a question about the intern schedule. As she walked around the forensics platform, she noticed Hannah standing by herself on the far side from Brennan's office, texting with vigor.<p>

Then, just before she reached her destination Cam heard Brennan's voice, barely audible, and cold as ice. "I can see that things have changed now that you are with Hannah. I will adjust my behavior accordingly."

"Just what the hell does that mean?" Booth shot back, clearly agitated.

"It means that I will assume that anything I share with you might be shared with Hannah and so I will be more careful about divulging personal information to you."

Cam heard the sound of furious typing. Glancing at Hannah, who was too far away to have heard and still engrossed in her phone, Cam decided the last place she wanted to be was in the middle of this mess, and made a quick U-turn, ducking into Angela's office.

Angela and Hodgins were sitting close together, talking quietly. They both looked up in surprise.

"Cam?"

"Yeah." She nodded in their direction.

"Did you…need something?" Hodgins asked. "You look—"

Cam shushed him, then peeked out to see Booth's retreating form.

"Gotta go," she said and left.

Hodgins looked at Angela. "That was weird, right?"

Angela raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

oOo

Booth approached Hannah, feeling strangely disconnected. He frantically scrambled for a reason—_any reason_—to cancel their lunch plans. He needed to process this and he needed to do so without being subjected to the careful scrutiny of the journalist who shared his bed.

"Seeley, I have to—are you okay?"

He shook himself and cleared his throat. "Fine. I'm fine."

They both began speaking at once.

"I just got a text—"

"I think I'm going to have to—"

Booth stopped, opening the door for her. "You first."

"I just got a text from my editor. It looks like I'm headed to Israel for a few days, following the Secretary of State. I know we were supposed to have lunch, but the plane leaves in two hours…"

"No, it's fine." He tried not to look relieved. "I'm pretty swamped, too. How long will you be gone?"

"I'm not certain. I'll definitely be gone through the weekend. Possibly through the middle of next week."

"Okay." He kissed her briefly, then looked her in the eyes. "Safety first?"

She smiled at him. "Safety first."

As she walked away, Booth tilted his head back and looked at the cloudless blue sky, wondering how the hell he was going to fix this mess.

oOo

As soon as Booth left her office, Brennan struggled to hold onto her anger and keep the threatening feelings of despair at bay. Recalling Hannah's flippant, _Is this the guy you met on your cruise?_ was sufficient to stoke her fury again.

She knew things had changed between them, but she hadn't realized how much _he _had changed. Up to this point, Brennan had accepted responsibility for the problems in her personal life. She knew that her refusal of him had driven him to find someone else. She knew that she had missed her chance, and that Booth had not wronged or betrayed her by becoming involved with Hannah. But this…she had never expected that he would violate her trust by sharing things she'd said to him in confidence.

She looked down at her palms, surprised to find half-moon impressions her fingernails had left behind from clenching her fists.

Surveying her office, she realized that every space, every surface in this room held memories of him. In an uncharacteristically hasty decision, she decided to take the rest of the afternoon off. She had plans to meet Victoria for dinner that evening, and had intended to leave the lab no later than six this evening, but she suddenly just needed to leave.

As she was collecting her things, Dr. Saroyan entered, looking apprehensive. "Dr. Brennan…I have a few questions for you about—are you leaving for the day?"

"Yes. I have decided to take the rest of the day off."

"Ooooookay." Given what she'd just inadvertently overheard a few minutes prior, Cam decided not to question her. "Will you be in at all this weekend?"

"No. Did you have a question for me?"

"Mmmmm…yeah, about the intern schedule? I need you to take a look at it and let me know if there are any conflicts." Cam handed Brennan a sheet of paper. "No rush. Look it over this weekend and we can talk about it on Monday."

Brennan took the paper and slipped it into her bag. Cam was still standing in front of her desk.

"Is there something else?"

Cam looked uncomfortable. Reluctantly, she asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Why wouldn't everything be okay?"

"Weeeeelllll…last week you took a spontaneous week-long vacation without telling anyone where you were going, and now you're leaving at," she checked her watch, "two o'clock on a Friday with no plans to come back to work until Monday."

Brennan just looked at her impassively.

"That's not like you," Cam clarified.

"I appreciate your concern, but I am fine. I am simply following the unsolicited advice I've been receiving for years to cultivate a richer social life." Brennan gathered her things and breezed past Cam. "I will see you on Monday."

Stunned, Cam feebly called to her back, "Have a good weekend."

oOo

Brennan stepped into the shower at six o'clock feeling energized, but sticky after her workout. She washed slowly and thoroughly, reveling in the hot water and the feel of her soapy hands slipping against her smooth skin.

She was drying off when her phone chimed to indicate she'd received a text. It was from Victoria, and it read, _Slight change of plans. Can you meet me at Founding Fathers for a drink at 7:15 before dinner?_

Brennan texted back in the affirmative and then began getting ready. She regarded herself in the mirror as she brushed on her scant makeup and fastened her earrings. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her thoughts from Booth.

She was still angry with him, but she was also haunted by the look on his face when she'd all but told him that he wouldn't be privy to her personal life anymore. His face had held a mixture of remorse, devastation, and disbelief.

She honestly believed that he hadn't betrayed her on purpose. But to her mind, that made it even more likely that it would happen again in the future. And his explanation…_we live together_…as if she needed a reminder that he belonged to someone else now.

Her throat tightened, and she shook her head. She had managed not to cry over this, and she was determined to keep it that way. She was finished crying. Crying solved nothing.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up her coat and purse and headed out the door.

oOo

Booth was sitting at his desk, mind numb from filling out endless paperwork, when Cam appeared in his doorway.

He wasn't sure what to make of her sudden appearance. It probably wasn't good.

Before he could speak she asked, "You have dinner plans?"

He certainly wasn't expecting _that_. "Uh…no?"

"Is that a question?"

"No. No. I mean, no I don't have dinner plans."

"Well, let's go."

"What?"

"Get. Din-ner." She spoke slowly, emphasizing each syllable as if he were a particularly dim-witted child.

"Um, okay." He was a little disoriented. She'd caught him by surprise, and before he knew it, they were sitting at a table in a local pizzeria with beers, waiting for their pizza, when Cam said, "Alright, big man. Spill it."

The beer froze in the air halfway to his lips. "What?"

"Something is obviously bothering you. Given the fact that Dr. Brennan disappeared last week and then reappeared just as suddenly, and the fact that your strange behavior started when she took off, I'm guessing it has to do with her." In fact, based on the snippet of a conversation she'd overheard between Booth and Brennan earlier in the day, she _knew_ what this was about, but she'd decided it would be better to keep that to herself for the time being. "So, come on, out with it. I'd like to get this portion of the evening out of the way so I can enjoy my pizza. This is my splurge for the week and I'd rather not have it ruined by your woes."

He set down the bottle and began peeling the corner of the label, avoiding Cam's penetrating gaze.

After a brief period of silence, he asked, "Do you know why she left?"

Cam snorted. "I know you haven't been around much lately, but I think you know better than to think that Dr. Brennan confides in _me._ We've been operating under a truce for a few years now, but we're not girlfriends." She paused and watched him carefully. "Have you asked Angela?"

He shifted uncomfortably in the booth, wincing as the vinyl squeaked underneath him. "Yeah, I talked to Angela while Bones was gone, but…she didn't know anything, either."

Cam looked at him as if she knew he wasn't telling the whole truth, and waited for him to continue.

"That case with the surgeon just before she left? She was acting so…"

Cam nodded. "Yeah, we all saw it."

"And then when I talked to her yesterday she said the reason she took this trip was because she was figuring some things out…" Booth stopped, determined not to reveal anything too personal. He'd learned his lesson, but there was no way to explain the situation properly without getting into Brennan's private life. "You know what? Never mind, I…" He drained his beer and caught the eye of the server to ask for another. "I'll figure it out."

Cam pursed her lips and leaned forward. "Okay. Even though you're not asking, I'm going to tell you what I think. I think that Dr. Brennan is having trouble adjusting to the changes between you two since you got back. I think _you're_ having trouble figuring out how to fit Hannah into your life, so instead of figuring it out, you just checked out on everybody else and focused on Hannah instead."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she said, "I'm not finished. I don't know what happened between you two last year, and I don't want to know. I don't want to be in the middle of this, but I can't help it because your personal life is disrupting my lab. I'm guessing you told Brennan how you feel about her and she turned you down. Then the two of you ran off to who-knows-where to get away from each other. You came back and realized that nothing had changed. Then Hannah arrives and makes a convenient buffer. Fine. Have your fun. It's not like you don't deserve it. You've been living like a monk for god knows how long."

Booth's jaw worked, but he stayed silent.

"So now Brennan's acting weird and you think that maybe it has something to do with you. But you're living with Hannah. And now you don't know what the hell to do. I know you. You feel like if you choose Brennan over Hannah that means you used her, which makes you a bad guy. And probably you're not even sure what Brennan is feeling, so why take a risk when you've already got a sure thing? But you know what's worse than admitting that you used somebody? Continuing to use them just so you don't have to face that you messed up." She took a deep breath. "Now maybe I'm way off base here. But if I'm right…you need to think about what you really want."

She held his gaze for a moment before breaking eye contact and saying, "That's all I'm going to say on the subject. So tell me…how are the Flyers this year?"

True to her word, Cam didn't say another word about Brennan or Hannah or his fucked up personal life. They talked easily about everything and nothing. Booth had a third beer, but barely touched his food. Cam was wise enough not to comment on that, either.

oOo

Brennan entered Founding Fathers, scanning the room for Victoria and praying that Booth would not be here. She spotted Victoria, and was both surprised and pleased to see that Robert, her husband and Benjamin were with her.

Brennan smiled as she approached them, pleasantly surprised. Benjamin stood and kissed her on the cheek.

Victoria spoke first, "I hope you don't mind the boys joining us. Benjamin had to come to town for business this weekend, so I invited him to join us, and then Robert wanted to tag along."

"Not at all." And she really didn't, which was a surprise in itself. She'd never handled unpredictability well. _The pyramids are better at change than you are._

They each had one drink, and then repaired to a nearby Vietnamese restaurant for dinner. Brennan marveled at how effortlessly conversation flowed between them, enjoying the ease with which she related to these people.

As they were finishing dinner, Victoria looked at her watch. "I hate to skip dessert, but Robert and I have to get home to make sure the boys make their curfew." She and her husband shared a glance, and she continued, "We had a lovely time. Let's get together again, soon."

Brennan nodded and murmured appropriate words of agreement.

Victoria looked at Benjamin, "Don't stay out too late, and mind you're quiet when you come in."

"Yes, mother," he teased her.

As soon as Victoria and Robert were out the door, Benjamin leaned closer to her and said, "So how are things?"

Brennan knew he was being deliberately vague. She could answer the question with impersonal information about her work or she could interpret the question as an inquiry about Booth and her metaphorical heart.

She sighed. She really could use someone to talk to about this who wasn't so…enmeshed. "Things are…complicated. I'd rather not discuss it in public. Would you like to come back to my place for a drink?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "Sure."


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's Note: Thank you again for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites for this story. I'm overwhelmed. You guys are awesome. I hope this lives up to your expectations._

* * *

><p>Brennan and Benjamin stopped for ice cream on their stroll back to her apartment. As they walked, he asked, "So? What happened when you got back?"<p>

"My friend Angela showed up just a few minutes after I got home."

"Really? Does she have ESP or something?"

She looked at him sharply. "I'm going to assume that was meant to be a joke?"

He chuckled. "Sure. So how did she know you were back?"

Brennan stopped walking and frowned. "I'm not certain. She just told me 'I have my ways.'" Brennan shook her head and began moving again. "She wanted to know where I'd been and that I was okay."

He nodded. "And Booth? Did he show up out of the blue, too?"

She shook her head. "I went to him on Sunday. We talked and it…it almost felt like it used to."

"Did something else happen? You still seem troubled."

"He just…he shared some personal information about me with his…girlfriend."

"How personal?"

"I'm not certain. She saw the picture you sent me and made a comment that alerted me to the fact that Booth had discussed with her that I'd met someone on my cruise. I was so angry that I didn't allow him to explain any further."

"Met someone?" He looked at her in surprise. "You didn't tell them I'm gay?"

She avoided his eyes. "No, I did not."

"Do they think we're…involved?"

"No, I assured them we're just friends."

"I don't understand."

"It's none of their business. First, your sexual preferences are your business. I did not feel at liberty to reveal such personal information. Second, I'm trying…I need to separate my personal and professional lives. The more they know, the harder it is to separate the two. I can assure you, I'm not going to ask you to participate in any sort of deception." She was quiet for a moment, and he regarded her skeptically. She stopped and fixed him with a piercing gaze. "Although I do have a favor to ask of you."

"Shoot."

"Would you accompany me to a benefit next weekend, please? As my escort?"

"That sounds like…a fake date."

She nodded, dropping her eyes. "I understand."

"Wait, Temperance." He grabbed her arm as she turned to continue walking. "Why do you need an escort?"

She looked at her shoes. "I normally attend these functions with Booth, but he will likely be bringing Hannah."

"I still don't…listen, one of the things that I liked about you from the moment we met was that you're straightforward. I feel like you have no…" he searched for the right word, "artifice. What you see is what you get."

She nodded.

"But this feels…disingenuous."

She straightened her spine. "I can assure you that I am not asking you to pretend to be my boyfriend or lover or…whatever the appropriate word would be. I am asking you, as a friend, to accompany me to this function so that I will have someone with whom I can converse and dance and…" she trailed off.

"Hey," his voice softened. "I'm sorry. I just…" he closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. Of course I'll go with you. This is…I didn't mean to accuse you of anything."

She quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

He drew in a deep breath. "I spent most of high school dating girls and pretending to be interested in them. I didn't 'come out of the closet' until college, and even then…I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've already spent too much of my life lying about who and what I am." He stopped and looked her in the eye. "Nothing good ever comes from lying to the people you care about."

She smiled at him. "I am not asking you to lie. You are welcome to make an announcement of your homosexuality if you so desire. I would just like not to be alone."

"I can help you with that. Is this function black tie?"

"Yes."

They walked in comfortable silence for a several blocks. "Hey, has it occurred to you…" he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

She stopped. "Has what occurred to me?"

He rocked back and forth on his heels, biting his bottom lip. "Well, just to play devil's advocate here…you're angry with him for sharing your personal crisis with his girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"Well, is that qualitatively different from what you've shared with me?"

"I—" she began, but stopped. Her brow furrowed. "I don't—do _you_ think I have betrayed him by talking to you?"

"No, I don't. I think you confided in a friend because you needed some perspective. But…do you think that he was doing the same thing when he talked to Hannah?" He took half a step backward and put up his hands, palms facing outward. "I'm not saying he didn't cross a line, but…I wonder if maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt."

"You think it's hypocritical of me to discuss him with you but also to be angry that he discussed me with Hannah."

"I'm not saying that. I'm not making any sort of judgment. I'm just saying…try to see it from his perspective. We haven't known each other for very long, and I don't know him at all, but…I can imagine that it's very painful for you to see them together. Anger is easier, simpler than sadness."

She scoffed. "I don't put much stock in psychology."

He raised his eyebrows and smiled. "So you've said. But from what you've told me about him, he cares about you very much. He's extremely protective of you. Regardless of whether or not he still has romantic feelings for you, you and I both know that he was probably going crazy while you were gone, especially since you yelled at him just before you took off. I'll bet he was pretty frantic. Is it so surprising that he would look to his girlfriend for support? Who else would he go to?"

She looked deflated. "Your argument has merit."

"Hey, no argument. Just a different perspective," he said as they arrived at her building. He eyed her critically, "Hey. How's about I give you a rain check on that drink?"

"What?"

"I think I'm gonna head on to Victoria's. Would you like to have lunch tomorrow? I'm meeting my client at 11, but I should be finished by about one. I'll give you a call?"

Distractedly, she nodded. "That will be fine. I'll…I'll talk to you tomorrow."

oOo

When they finished eating, Booth walked Cam to her car and then headed for his SUV. When he got home, he just sat in the driver's seat for several minutes, trying to decide what to do.

Losing himself in a bottle of scotch was tempting, but he needed a clear head to figure this out.

And so, despite his exhaustion, he began walking. As the pavement passed under his feet, he replayed everything in his mind, trying to make sense of everything, and figure out how he'd gotten here.

He couldn't believe how easily he had betrayed Bones' trust. He'd been so wrapped up in his own worry and frustration and guilt that it hadn't even occurred to him that he was revealing information that she'd shared with him in confidence.

Not to mention the months he spent before that, deliberately blinding himself to her.

He stopped at a street corner, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to erase the memory of her face this afternoon, so cold and distant. He couldn't remember ever being on the receiving end of that particular look, even in the beginning of their partnership. Today she'd been looking _through _him.

Cam's words played on loop in his head, _But you know what's worse than admitting that you used somebody? Continuing to use them just so you don't have to face that you messed up_…_you need to think about what you really want._

Had he used Hannah? It hadn't started that way. In Afghanistan, they were just having a good time. It began as a fling, and regardless of what he'd told Bones about the relationship when he came back—_serious as a heart attack_—it really wasn't.

At least not until she came to DC. To be honest, he hadn't even known when they'd see one another again. She had told him she loved being a war correspondent, and she couldn't see herself settling down stateside in the foreseeable future. Things had been…vague between them when they'd parted. At best his statement to Bones had been an exaggeration, at worst it was just an outright lie.

He wasn't really sure why he'd said that to her. To prove to her that _someone_ actually wanted him? To reassure her that he wasn't mooning over her anymore? Some part of him had been afraid that if she saw that his feelings for her hadn't changed, she might check out of his life completely.

This thought gave him pause. _Wait, your feelings for her hadn't changed?_ This was the first time he'd actually admitted that, without equivocation, even in his own head. _Shit. No wonder things are so fucked up. You can't even face this in the privacy of your own mind._

Which brought him back to the question of whether he was using Hannah. He liked Hannah, even loved her—didn't he? But when it came down to it, she was a distraction—a buffer, Cam had called it. And proof that he wasn't completely worthless and unlovable.

So where did that leave him? In love with his partner who no longer trusted him and living with a woman he cared about, but didn't see a future with. He stopped and dropped onto a bench.

Well, he had at least a couple of days to figure out how to handle Hannah, because this wasn't a conversation he was willing to have over the phone. They usually didn't talk much when she was on assignment anyway. But Bones…

He'd finally owned up to the fact that his feelings for her hadn't changed. He was still in love with her. He wasn't sure what her feelings for him were, especially given his recent betrayal.

He wasn't sure what the hell to do. Obviously, attempting to move on and find happiness was not going to happen as long as she was in his life. Which meant he had a decision to make. Either deal with the fact that he might never have her as more than a partner and friend and learn to live with that. Just that.

Or.

Or he could leave.

He could put in for a transfer to Philly or New York and still be close enough to Parker to see him as often as he did now. Maybe…maybe if he actually left her behind for good, he'd break the thrall in which she held him.

He felt physically ill at the thought.

He gulped a breath of cool air to fight back the nausea. Could he actually do that? Could he just leave?

What would happen to her if he did?

What would happen to _him _if he didn't?

He shook his head. This is what Bones would call _jumping to conclusions_. He didn't have all the facts yet. He needed to talk to her.

But not tonight. Tonight everything was too fresh and too raw and…confusing.

Pushing up from the bench, he realized he'd been wandering aimlessly. He considered hailing a cab back to his apartment, but figured the additional walking might help exhaust him enough that he could actually get some sleep. And so he trudged.

As he climbed the steps to his apartment, he felt a measure of peace. He'd finally sorted through his feelings about Hannah. He cared about her. He'd miss her when she was gone, but compared to the ache he felt without Bones it was insignificant.

It was time to stop hiding behind his relationship with her. As he reached his front door, he was hit by a realization. It couldn't be a coincidence that since Bones' departure, Hannah had been out of town on assignment almost half of the time. Until a few weeks ago, she worked almost exclusively in DC, complaining about all the hours she spent in the White House Press Room and roaming the halls of the Capital Building, lamenting the lack of travel opportunities. The fact that he hadn't even _noticed _until now spoke volumes about their relationship.

He shook his head as he unlocked the door. It seemed likely that this relationship was dissolving before it even had a chance to break.

He was surprised to find a light on when he came in. He called out, "Hannah?" _Had she come back early?_

He rounded the corner into the living room and stopped dead. Heart pounding, he croaked, "What the hell are you doing here, Bones?"


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's Note: Here in the States we are gearing up for Thanksgiving, which means a week of dishes and family obligations and dishes and baking and dishes and roasting and-you guessed it-more dishes! Which means there's a good chance that I won't be posting again until after the holiday. I'll try to find time to write before then, but I make no promises. To all of you Americans, Happy Thanksgiving! To everyone else, Happy Random Thursday in November!_

* * *

><p>"What the hell are you doing here, Bones?"<p>

Brennan stood and said, "It has come to my attention that I acted rashly, and treated you unfairly. I owe you an apology."

Booth took a step back, almost stumbled. It seemed to him that every time he thought he'd figured something out, every time he felt like he'd gained a little equilibrium, she was there to knock him off balance again.

With any other woman, he'd suspect it was intentional.

He turned his body 90 degrees, so that she was to the side instead of directly in front of him, and braced his palms against the wall, trying to center himself. After a moment, he chanced a glance at her. She was standing perfectly still, eyes wide and guileless.

"Out with it, then," he barked, startling her.

She nodded and lowered her head, as if she felt she deserved this harsh treatment from him. It made his stomach clench and his eyes prick uncomfortably.

"I…" her voice was soft, hesitant. "I overreacted this afternoon to my discovery that you had discussed my…situation with Hannah. I realize that pair-bonds have meaning, and that sharing a dwelling with her also necessitates—"

"_Stop._"

He wasn't looking at her. He couldn't. _Jesus._ She'd come to absolve him with an anthropology lesson? For breaking his _own fucking rule_? Usually he found her cluelessness disarming and endearing, but sometimes it just infuriated him.

"Booth, I—I just wanted to apologize. I know that I've been behaving irrationally lately and—"

"I said _stop_."

Brennan was taken aback. She had expected that he might be upset with her, but she'd hoped to rectify the situation with her apology. Instead, she seemed to be making him angrier. Her eyes were fixed on his profile. She could see the tension vibrating in his shoulders, the hard set of his jaw.

She hesitated, unsure if she should stay or leave.

"Why did you come here tonight?" he asked in a rough voice.

"To apologize. I—I told you—"

"No. Why did you come _here_? _Tonight_? And wait for me in my living room?" He finally turned to face her. "Why couldn't this wait until tomorrow or Monday…why didn't you just _call_?" He took a step towards her, and she backed up, tripping over the coffee table.

He reached out and caught her elbow easily, stopping her fall.

"I—I don't know. I just needed to fix this," she said.

The vulnerability in her face and her voice deflated him. "No, you didn't." He shook his head and looked away from her.

"But, Booth, I—"

"No. I'm the one who screwed up. I'm sorry, Bones." He realized that he was still holding her arms. He dropped his hands abruptly and took a step back.

His thoughts from earlier tonight were nagging at him. He searched her face for clues as to what she was feeling, but she only looked wary.

Given his rapid-fire change of mood since he'd walked in, he couldn't really blame her—in the space of a few minutes he'd gone from annoyance to anger to remorse, and now he was feeling fucking desperate. Desperate for answers, desperate to know what her feelings for him where, desperate to know where they stood.

Which is why he knew he couldn't have the conversation that he wanted to with her tonight. He was too volatile, too out of control at the moment.

Besides, he thought as he surveyed his apartment, seeing one of Hannah's hair elastics and her favorite mug on the coffee table, it would be prudent to actually end things with Hannah before approaching Bones, anyway. He couldn't very well broach the topic of love with Bones when his bed still bore the imprint of another woman.

What exactly was the standard waiting period between kicking one woman out and inviting another in, anyway? He laughed darkly to himself. He'd certainly made a mess of things.

Bones looked startled and even more confused.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. He just really needed to be alone right now.

As if she'd read his mind, Bones said, "I should just go. I'll see you next week, Booth."

Despite the fact that he'd just been wishing to be alone, he panicked, and grabbed her arm. "You don't have to—I mean…do you want to have lunch tomorrow?"

A frown creased her brow. "I'm sorry, Booth, but I can't. I have…plans for lunch tomorrow," she said evasively.

"Oh, yeah?" The way she said it made him suspicious, and his heart started beating wildly again. "Who are you having lunch with?" he feigned casual curiosity.

She hesitated before answering. "Benjamin."

He felt like he'd been doused with ice water. He cursed himself for his foolishness, the image of her wrapped in another man's arms flashing through his mind. "I—uh, okay. I guess…I'll see you next week then," he mumbled lamely.

She didn't respond, but fixed him with her penetrating gaze. "Your change in demeanor leads me to believe that you dislike Benjamin, but I fail to understand how, as you've never even met him."

He scoffed, "Suddenly you're a mind reader?" His voice came out harsher than he'd intended.

Her expression hardened. Booth, of all people, was aware of her shortcomings and insecurities. The disdain in his voice cut her to the core.

She didn't know what to make of this version of Booth, insensitive and emotionally bi-polar.

She felt wrung out. "I'm leaving now. I will see you next week." As an afterthought she added, "If we have a case."

Booth wanted to stop her, apologize, beg forgiveness; but he seemed to be saying all the wrong things to her lately, and he was afraid of making it worse. He just watched her go.

He was so distracted that it wasn't until the door had closed behind her that he registered the last thing she'd said, _If we have a case._ It didn't take a genius to read the subtext in that sentence.

Suddenly that bottle of scotch seemed like a damn good idea.


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's Note: Well, so much for taking a break from this story. This chapter was just itching to get out of my head. I really do plan to take a little break until next week, though. For real, this time. Probably ;-)_

* * *

><p>Booth woke Saturday morning on the couch, still in his clothes from the night before. His mouth felt like sandpaper, and his head was pounding.<p>

He cracked one eye open enough to see an empty bottle of scotch on the coffee table.

He groaned as the events from last night washed over him. He couldn't believe what an asshole he'd been. Bones had sought him out to apologize, and he'd been a dick. He hadn't been able to put aside his anger at himself and his shame for the way he'd been acting long enough to just tell her that's _he _was the one who should apologize.

He couldn't help but think that maybe he _should_ just put in for a transfer. He'd toyed with the idea the night before, not really considering seriously, just counting it among his options. But if the last couple of weeks were any indication, he needed to get away from Bones for her sake. He just kept hurting her.

He was carrying around an albatross of guilt, but instead of making things right between them, he just kept adding to it. He needed advice, but he wasn't sure who to go to.

Cam had already put her two cents worth in.

No way in hell was he going to Sweets.

Angela could probably give him the best insight into what would be best for Bones, but he couldn't count on her discretion.

Pops would tear him a new one.

As he was running through his options, his phone rang.

Looking at the screen, Parker's face flashed up at him. He groaned. Rebecca. He flipped it open. "Booth."

"Seeley, I have a favor to ask."

He waited.

"Seeley, are you there?"

"I was waiting to hear this favor," he said a little gruffly.

He could practically hear her look of disapproval. "Sorry," he said quickly. "It's been a rough week. What's up?"

There was a lengthy pause before she asked, "Are you hung over?"

"I'm fine, I just didn't get much sleep last night." If she noticed he didn't actually answer the question, she didn't call him on it.

"I know it's last minute, but could you take Parker for the day and keep him tonight? My mom's sick, and she needs some help, but I don't want him exposed to this. I think she's got the flu."

He hung his head. _Shit_. "Yeah, of course. Do you need me to come and get him?"

"Can you meet us at the diner in an hour? His report card came home on Friday and he got all As. I promised him we'd celebrate, but we haven't had a chance yet. I know he'd love to go for milkshakes with you."

"Yeah, of course. Tell him I love him."

"I'll pass it along…"

"Was there something else?"

"Is everything okay with Dr. Brennan? Parker mentioned you were concerned about her last weekend."

He hung his head, clearing his throat before he answered. "Um, yeah. She's fine. She got back last Saturday."

Rebecca was quiet, clearly waiting for him to continue.

"Okay, Bec, I'm gonna jump in the shower. I'll see you in an hour."

He could hear her speaking as he flipped the phone shut, but he didn't want to hear it.

He pushed himself off the couch, downed a large glass of water, started the coffee maker, and headed for the shower. He needed to get his shit together before he picked up Parker.

oOo

"Dad!" Booth was almost bowled over by a blur of blond curls.

"Hey, bub. So…all As, huh?"

"Yup." He smiled proudly.

"I see you got started without me," he gestured to the milkshakes on the table.

"He just couldn't wait." Rebecca eyed him critically. "Parker, go wash your hands."

"But Mo-om!"

She fixed him with a stern glare. "_Go_."

Booth watched his son trudge toward the bathroom with a sinking feeling in his gut. Rebecca had obviously saved the hand-washing until he got there to get Parker out of earshot.

She was just looking at him.

"What?" he asked her.

"What's going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" He knew he was acting like a petulant toddler, but he just couldn't muster the energy to care.

"Well, I know that ten-year-olds are not the _most _reliable source of information, but Parker said you were a mess when Dr. Brennan was gone last week."

He clenched his jaw.

"And that Hannah was gone the whole time."

He looked out the window, deliberately avoiding her eyes, and still didn't answer.

Parker came barreling back from the bathroom and offered his hands to his mother. "See? Clean."

She inspected them, nodded, and Parker immediately dug into his milkshake.

"Parker, I need to talk to your dad for a second. We'll be right back."

Too drained to argue, Booth allowed Rebecca to lead him outside.

"Seeley, I try to stay out of your personal life."

He scoffed.

She glared at him sharply. "Considering how many of my boyfriends you've run _background checks _on, I've earned the right to say this. Just shut up and listen."

Booth shoved his hands into his pockets and ducked his head, but didn't say anything.

"Hannah seems nice. Really. Almost…too perfect, in fact…" she mused with a shake of her head. "Anyway," she got back to the business at hand. "Even I can see that you're still in love with Dr. Brennan."

She paused. "Did she tell you that I ran into her a couple of weeks ago?"

Booth's eyes met hers in surprise. "What?"

"Yeah, we saw each other at the grocery store, you know that swanky organic one that you're always complaining about?"

He nodded, wondering where the hell she was going with this.

"I asked her how she was, you know, just chitchat. And then I mentioned in passing that Parker had placed third in his school science fair, and that he was really looking forward to telling her about it. She didn't know, Seeley." She paused to let it sink in. "It had been at least two weeks since the competition, but she didn't know. She was…the look on her face. I swear I thought she was going to cry. She just looked away from me and said, something like 'I hadn't heard. Please tell Parker congratulations for me.'"

"So?" Booth was starting to get pissed.

"So since when don't you tell her stuff like that? Last year she actually _helped _him with his project, and this year you don't even mention to her that he got a prize?"

He dropped his head, fixing his eyes on the cracks in the sidewalk.

"Seeley, she was devastated. Do you guys even…I mean are you still friends?"

His head snapped up. "What? Of course we're still—"

"Listen, I know things change, and…I'm probably overstepping my bounds here, but I have to say this. The look on her face, when she said your name…I certainly can't claim to know her well, but she…" Rebecca trailed off.

"She what?"

"She misses you." Rebecca was giving him that look, the one that said there was more, but she wasn't sure how to say it or if he was ready to hear it.

"Okay, thanks," he said abruptly and turned to go back into the diner.

Rebecca reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, Seeley. Have you ever…when she talked about you there was this…look…on her face. It was very strange. I've never seen her so unguarded before. She was hurting. Did you guys…was there something more between you?"

He shook his head, looking angry, but his voice came out softly, "Not your business, Bec."

She nodded. "Maybe seeing you with Hannah made her realize what she was missing."

Booth couldn't stand another second of this conversation. "That's enough. I'll see you…well, just call me. Parker can stay with me for as long as you need him to."

"Seeley."

"What?" he roared.

"You know I just want you to be happy."

He turned to face her, and for just a second he saw the girl he used to be in love with. His face softened. "Yeah. I know." He turned away from her, trying to put all of this out of his head so he could just enjoy the extra time with his son.

oOo

An hour later as Booth unlocked his front door and ushered Parker inside, his eyes landed on a suitcase and purse stationed by the front door.

_Shit_, he thought. _Hannah's home._ He really didn't want to have this out with her with Parker in the house, but he didn't think he could keep up the pretense of being in this relationship anymore. He was just too emotionally drained.

"Parks, take your stuff to your room, and them you can watch TV for a bit, okay?"

"Really?" Parker hesitated.

"You want me to change my mind?" Booth threatened jokingly.

Parker grabbed his bags and sprinted towards his room.

Booth cautiously pushed open the bedroom door, then locked it behind him. He didn't want a surprise audience for this conversation.

The shower was running, so he poked his head in the bathroom.

"Hannah? Why didn't you call me to tell me you were home?"

"I'm almost finished in here. Just give me a second. We need to talk."

Booth nodded, then realized that she couldn't see him. "Okay. Um, Parker's here. Rebecca's mom got sick and so I've got him at least until tomorrow."

She didn't respond.

"Hannah?"

"Okay…I'll be out in a minute."

Booth sprawled on the bed, his arm thrown over his face. He knew this wasn't going to go well. After being lectured by Cam, confronted by Bones, and then getting _another _lecture from Rebecca, he was feeling overwhelmed and less than charitable towards the women in his life at the moment.

But he couldn't put this off. Even if his suspicions about Bones' feelings were wrong, now that he'd faced the truth about his relationship with Hannah, he couldn't keep play-acting. This was not something he could avoid.

Hannah emerged a moment later wearing nothing but a towel on her head. He stood up and looked at her, careful to keep his eyes on her face. She noticed this, and nodded to herself, as if he'd just confirmed something.

He started to speak, "Hannah, we—"

But she interrupted him. "I'm back early because I was offered a promotion."

He just stared at her, unsure of what this meant.

"It would require me to move overseas."

His jaw dropped slightly, and he tried to speak, but his throat was suddenly dry.

"Can you give me any reason _not _to take it?" Her voice was level, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes flashed with anger.

He looked down at his hands, feeling like a schmuck. "No. No, you…you should take it."

She unwrapped the towel from her head, and began rubbing her hair dry, watching him carefully. "Seeley, look at me."

He hesitated, but raised his eyes to hers. She stepped forward, but he retreated. Again, she nodded, smirking a little as if he were behaving exactly as she expected. "Is it Temperance?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

"I'm not blind, Seeley. Since I came to DC, I could tell there was something between the two of you. But I trusted you."

"Hannah, I swear, I never—"

"But then when she disappeared a couple of weeks ago," she cut him off. "It was like you were...empty while she was gone. I've never seen someone so broken up over a 'friend' taking an unexpected vacation. You were totally wrecked, Seeley. And since she's come back, you still seem…troubled. Conflicted."

"I never meant to—I swear I didn't—" he couldn't seem to form a coherent thought.

"I'm not accusing you anything. I don't think you slept with her or anything. But I didn't downgrade my career to be the other woman," her voice was quiet, mindful of Parker in the next room, but there was a hard edge to it.

She was pissed. Not that he could blame her.

"This _isn't_ about Bones. We're not…together or anything. I just…I care about you, Hannah. But I don't see a future for us. Do you?"

She shook her head. As she turned back to the bathroom, he suddenly realized that she had been naked for the entire conversation. For some reason that struck him as incongruous and amusing. He started to laugh.

She turned and looked at him sharply. "What's so funny?"

He stopped abruptly. "My life has gone to hell. Everything is fucked up."

She nodded, appraising him unsympathetically. "Why don't you take Parker to a movie or something. I'll be gone when you get back."

Booth nodded, reflecting that this was the easiest, least emotional break-up he'd ever had. Actually, you could say that about the whole damn relationship.


	15. Chapter 15

_She nodded, appraising him unsympathetically. "Why don't you take Parker to a movie or something. I'll be gone when you get back."_

_Booth nodded, reflecting that this was the easiest, least emotional break-up he'd ever had. Actually, you could say that about the whole damn relationship. _

He stepped into the living room, and heard the lock click behind him. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Parker, turn off the TV."

"But da-aaaad. You said I could watch it."

"I know, Parks, but we're going to do something even more fun."

"Like what?"

"How's about we check out the International Spy Museum? Have you ever been there?"

"Seriously?"

Booth nodded. "Get your shoes, bub."

"Can we take the subway?"

"Sure, buddy. It'll be an adventure."

"Dad." Parker looked at him disapprovingly. "I'm eleven. The subway is fun, but it's not an adventure."

"Oh-ho! Suddenly you're all grown up?"

Parker smiled sheepishly.

"Okay…jacket?"

As Booth bustled them out the door, Parker noticed Hannah's bags. "Is Hannah here, dad?"

"Yup. But she's going right back out of town for work, so we're just gonna get out of her way."

oOo

Brennan was having lunch with Benjamin, distracted by her thoughts of the night before. Benjamin had been absolutely correct in his assessment that her talking to him about Booth was no different than Booth discussing her with Hannah. Which is why, despite the fact that she was troubled by her confrontation with Booth, she was reluctant to discuss it with Benjamin—however much she would appreciate his advice.

"Temperance?"

She shook herself.

"Are you okay? You seem distracted."

"Of course, I was just—"

"Did you go see him last night?"

"What?"

"You were thinking of Booth just now."

"I—how could you—?"

He smiled at her kindly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She considered for a moment. "I'm…I'm wondering if I should sever our partnership."

"That bad, huh?"

She paused briefly before answering, toying with her fork. "I would prefer not to go into specifics, but…it seems that all we do is hurt one another. And seeing him with Hannah is…" she looked up at him. "I want him to be happy. But I find that it's very painful to watch."

Benjamin scooted around the table so that he was sitting right next to her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him, thankful for the comfort he offered. In a low voice he said, "Just don't make any rash decisions. And Temperance," he pulled back slightly to make eye contact, "talk to him first. Imagine how you would feel if he did the same thing without consulting you."

She nodded and put her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed.

oOo

Booth and Parker were walking from the metro station to the museum when Parker pointed at a restaurant window across the street. "Hey, dad! I think that's Bones!"

Booth looked up and sure enough, there was Bones, sitting across from the man he'd seen in the photograph. Benjamin.

"Can we go say hi?"

Booth hesitated. He knew that Bones would be happy to see Parker, but after the emotional rollercoaster of the last 24 hours, coupled with the fact that he'd been such as ass to her the night before, he wasn't sure it was a good idea. As he stood trying to decide, he watched Benjamin scoot around the table next to Bones and put his arm around her.

And Bones leaned into him.

The intimacy of the moment was like a punch to the gut.

He grabbed Parker's hand and started walking, his mind buzzing. "Dad! Dad, that was Bones! Can't we go say hi?"

"No!" It came out too sharply. He paused for a second to rein in his emotions. "No, Parker, we're not going to disturb her. I know she'd be glad to see you, but it looked like she was having a pretty serious conversation there. It would be rude to interrupt."

"Well, can we go see her tomorrow?"

"I don't know, bub."

"Will you call her?"

Booth clenched his jaw, trying not to snap at his son. "Let's…let's talk about this later. C'mon, the spy museum is just up ahead. Let's go check it out."

As they wandered through the museum, Booth couldn't shake Bones from his thoughts. Parker was having so much fun he didn't even notice Booth's distraction.

He kept replaying the image of her leaning against Benjamin over and over again. There was nothing overtly sexual or romantic about the gesture, but it needled him anyway. It reminded him uneasily of the "guy hugs" he used to offer Brennan when she was upset. Was she upset now? Bones had told him she and Benjamin were "just friends," and in his experience Bones didn't lie. But were they "just friends" in the same sense that he and Bones had been "just partners" for so long? Was there the hope of more for her with Benjamin?

He thought about the way she'd looked at him during the Eames case. At the time he'd been trying so hard not to notice, but looking back, he thought he'd identified it: longing. Was she longing for _him_? Was this Benjamin just a substitute because she thought he was still with Hannah?

He was beyond confused. He had so many questions. His gut was telling him that there was still something there between him and Bones, and that she had finally realized it. But he was afraid to trust it, afraid that it was just wishful thinking on his part.

One thing he knew for sure, if he was wrong, and she really was involved with this Benjamin guy, he wouldn't stick around and watch it. He couldn't. It was one thing to continue working with her after she'd shot him down and they were both single (_and she was going out with your boss_, he thought), but now that he'd proven to himself that there was no "moving on" from her, he couldn't stay and watch her fall in love with someone else. It would kill him.

But he wasn't going to make any rash decisions. He needed to talk to Bones. He needed to ask around at work, see what his options were.

No matter how sucker-punched he was feeling by what he'd seen through that restaurant window, he needed to calm down and think things through. Acting without thinking was what had sent them running to opposite ends of the world for seven months with no contact.

He needed to be sure before he walked away from her again, because he promised himself this would be the last time. He wasn't going to make his decision based on possibilities or unfounded suspicions. If he did put in for a transfer, that was it. There was no way he was ever going to get past his feelings for her if he just kept returning like some lovesick boomerang.

oOo

Brennan said good-bye to Benjamin outside Union Station and then began walking, her mind swirling with thoughts of Booth. She ached at the thought that their relationship had devolved to the point that she would even _consider _severing their partnership. But it was undeniable that they had reached a point where they just didn't seem to know how to talk to one another anymore.

Maybe it was time for her to return to ancient remains. Before partnering with Booth, she used to spend nearly half of the year away on digs. Perhaps that's what would be best for both of them. She could still live in DC. She wasn't running away.

She just needed…she really didn't know what she needed.

Peace.

A reprieve from the heartsick feeling that plagued her almost constantly now.

Perhaps she should call Booth and ask him to have lunch with her tomorrow. Because she did have to talk to him before making any decisions, however painful it might be.

She reached into her coat pocket for her cell phone, but found it empty. She stopped and searched through her purse. Not there. Then she remembered having placed her phone on the table at the restaurant. It was more than a mile to walk, but she didn't want to hail a cab. She had an excess of nervous energy that she needed to expend.

As she walked, she considered the evidence. She recalled the way Booth had received her when she'd found him after church right after returning from her trip. He'd been so distant at first that she wasn't even sure he wanted to see her. And then he'd pulled her into a hug, and everything seemed to right itself. They'd had lunch and talked a bit and…it had felt like _them _again.

They'd slipped back into their comfortable routines for almost a week, having lunch, chatting, and even when Hannah was there it was…she wasn't sure how to describe it. Acceptable. He was happy, and things between them were almost like they had been before.

And then he'd seen the picture of her dancing with Benjamin. She'd been so confused by his reaction. He'd looked angry and…jealous. That was the only word that fit what she'd seen in his face, but that was ludicrous. He had Hannah. He was _serious as a heart attack_ about Hannah. She'd never been good at reading people, and while she'd thought she understood Booth, she must have been mistaken. Besides, her judgment had been somewhat clouded by anger at Booth for sharing personal information with Hannah.

But what about when she'd seen him last night? She was at a loss to explain his behavior then. He'd been desolate, angry, frustrated, and apologetic, in turn; and then he'd laughed at her. _At _her. She'd never felt so exposed and hurt to have her social limitations treated as a punchline. She wracked her brain to provide an alternative explanation for his laughter, but she found none. Even now her face flushed with embarrassment. She knew she was socially awkward, but she never—_never_—expected Booth, of all people, to laugh at her expense.

The final piece to this impossible puzzle was his reaction when she'd told him she was having lunch with Benjamin. He seemed angry and hurt.

She sorted through it all again, trying to fit all of the pieces of Booth's behavior into a coherent picture, but it defied explanation; furthermore, it was incompatible with the man that Booth used to be, the one who had once told her, _I know who you are, _and had convinced her that love was more than just a cocktail of potent chemicals in the limbic system.

She felt tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, and she couldn't be sure if it was her thoughts or the biting wind that caused them. As she approached the restaurant she stopped to locate a tissue in her purse before entering when she heard a familiar voice, "Bones!"

She didn't want Parker or Rebecca to see her tears, so she abandoned her search for a tissue and hastily wiped her eyes with the cuff of her jacket. But when she turned around to greet Parker, her eyes fell on Booth instead of Rebecca. Her stomach flipped and she swallowed hard.

"Hey, Bones," Booth said casually, but with a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Fancy meeting you here."


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's Note: I apologize for the delay. The chapters where B & B actually talk to one another really give me fits. This is yet another chapter that required several versions to finally feel right. I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and alerted and favorited!_

* * *

><p>"<em>Hey, Bones," Booth said casually, but with a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Fancy meeting you here."<em>

Booth saw his own uneasiness at this unexpected meeting mirrored in Bones' face, and he thought he'd seen her discreetly wipe her eyes before turning to face them. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

He really needed to speak to her in private for a second, just to apologize. They were standing outside a bakery, so he said to Parker, "Hey, bub. You wanna get some pie?" When Parker nodded vigorously, Booth added, "You run on in and figure out what you want. We'll be right behind you."

"Are you gonna stay and eat with us, Bones?" Parker looked at her expectantly.

"I'm not sure, Parker. I have a lot of work to do this afternoon…"

"Puh-leeeeease. We saw you having lunch earlier on our way to the museum. I wanted to come say hi to you then, but dad said we shouldn't bother you. But you could have some dessert with us now."

Booth saw a flash of something he couldn't quite identify flit across Bones' face at Parker's revelation. He didn't give her the opportunity to answer. "Parker, go on inside. Bones won't leave without saying goodbye to you." He looked to Brennan as he said this, and she nodded in response. "We'll be inside in a second."

Parker, knowing from the look on his father's face that it would be wise to obey, pushed open the door and went to peruse the bakery counter.

Booth opened his mouth to apologize, but he couldn't seem to form the words.

Brennan watched him with guarded eyes.

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, eyes on the sidewalk. Finally, he found his voice. "Listen, Bones, I owe you an apology. I know I was a jerk last night. I was just…it's been a rough week, and you surprised me, and…" he looked up to find her eyeing him suspiciously. He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't seem to stop himself, "…not that any of that is an excuse, but I just wanted you to know that I—I know I was an ass and I'm sorry." He pressed his lips together firmly in an attempt to stop prattling on.

She nodded slowly. "I accept your apology. And I would like to offer my own in return. I should not have surprised you in your own home. It's just…it was pointed out to me that I'd treated you unfairly and it was important for me to rectify the situation. I should have called. I am sorry for that."

He was listening intently, but one phrase stood out: _it was pointed out to me._ He recalled that she'd said something similar the night before. Not _I realized_ or _I determined_, but _it was pointed out to me._

And that begged the question: by whom? Was it Benjamin? Had she seen him the night before, too? If so, how much had she shared with him? Booth was afraid he wasn't ready to know the answers to those questions, but he knew the time was rapidly approaching when he wouldn't be able to avoid it anymore.

He shifted nervously from one foot to the other. "So, you wanna join us for some pie?"

The prospect of spending the afternoon with Booth and Parker was tempting, but given her tenuous emotional state, Brennan wasn't sure she could keep up pretenses. She shook her head. "No, Booth, I've got to—"

"C'mon, Bones, just indulge your sweet tooth with us. Whatever it is you've got to do can wait until later." His lips quirked into a half-smile.

She sighed. The opportunity to spend some time with Booth and Parker without Hannah was too tempting to resist, especially given that Booth was acting like himself at the moment.

She considered for another beat before answering. "I need to retrieve my cell phone. I left it in the restaurant earlier," she explained. "I can only stay for a few minutes."

"You know where to find us," he said as his half-smile blossomed into a grin.

Brennan walked to the end of the block to claim her phone, using the time to get herself back under control.

When she returned, she found Booth and Parker wedged into a tiny corner table, each with a slice of pie, and a cup of coffee waiting for her. "We weren't sure what you wanted, but I thought you might like some coffee?" Booth's eyes were kind and hopeful as she approached them.

"Just coffee is fine."

Before she even sat down, Parker started talking. "Bones! Hey, did dad tell you about my science fair project?"

Booth's face flushed as he remembered Rebecca's accusations, and he became inordinately interested in his pie. Why the hell hadn't he told Bones about Parker's science fair? _Because you don't really __**talk **__to her anymore. _He sighed.

Brennan unbuttoned her coat with more care than necessary, turning her back to take it off as she replied, "I heard you won third place. Congratulations, Parker. Tell me about your project," she requested as the sat down across the table from him.

Booth didn't miss the fact that she didn't actually answer Parker's question.

"It was about vegetables…" Parker launched into a long-winded explanation about a blind-taste test he conducted to compare organic and conventionally grown vegetables.

Throughout his explanation, Brennan peppered him with questions about his methodology and results, all of which Parker answered enthusiastically.

As Booth listened to their conversation flow around him, he kicked himself. He was reminded of standing on the upper level of the lab with Bones and asking her to help him enrich Parker. But since he'd returned from Afghanistan, he could only think of one time that Bones and Parker had seen each other. He'd been so wrapped up in his own mess that he hadn't seen he'd been short-changing both of them. For all her awkwardness and social clumsiness, Bones _connected_ with his kid. He shook his head ruefully, and looked up to find Bones watching him curiously.

She offered him a small smile, and said to Parker, "That sounds like a very well-designed project. I'd like to see pictures sometime."

"Dad has some on his phone. Show her, dad." Feeling like the World's Biggest Schmuck, Booth pulled out his phone and handed it to his son.

Parker scrolled through the pictures, showing her one of himself standing in front of his poster-board smiling, another of him holding a tomato is one hand and a bell pepper in the other, and finally one of Parker receiving his third-place ribbon.

"You must be very proud of yourself, Parker. It looks as if you worked very hard on this project," she said with a touch of wistfulness.

"Hey, bub. Why don't you go choose a dozen cookies for us to take home?" As Parker raced towards the bakery counter, Booth leaned closer to Brennan. "Hey, Bones, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you about the science fair, I just—"

Booth watched as her face smoothed and she was suddenly closed off, "It's fine. I'm glad Parker had the opportunity to tell me about it himself." She gathered her purse and coat, as she continued, "I have some things I need to do this afternoon, so I'm going to go." She threw a few bills on the table.

Booth opened his mouth to protest but was cut off when Parker raced back and said, "It's nine dollars, dad. You didn't give me any money."

Booth stood to pull out his wallet. "Are you headed to the lab?"

She nodded, her eyes fixed on something out the window.

"We'll walk with you." He patted his stomach with both hands. "Need to work off that pie," he said as he flashed a smile at her.

Parker returned bearing a paper bag full of cookies. "We're going to the lab?"

Brennan was reluctant, but the hopeful expression on Parker's face persuaded her. She nodded her assent.

As they exited the bakery, Booth said, "Hey, Bones, tell Parker about some of the crazy stuff that you saw in Indonesia."

As they walked, Brennan regaled him with stories of snakes and large spiders, armed rebels and flash floods.

"Wow, Bones. That sounds really cool. Are you glad you went?" Parker asked.

She considered his question briefly before answering. "Well, I didn't find what I was looking for, but as a scientist, I know that the search is important, even if you don't obtain the results you expected." She darted her eyes towards Booth before continuing, "And I found that I missed my friends and co-workers more than I had expected."

They had arrived at the lab, and Brennan pulled out her keys, surprised when Booth and Parker followed her inside.

Booth rubbed his hands together and said, "Hey, Parks. Why don't you go check out the animals in Hodgins' lab?"

Brennan looked at him questioningly, as Parker asked, "Really?"

"Just don't touch anything. Hands in your pockets!" Booth called to Parker as he ran towards Hodgins' office.

As soon as his son was out of earshot, Booth took a step towards Brennan. "Hey, Bones, I need to…" he ran his hand through his hair, "…are we…okay?"

She raised her eyes to his in surprise. "Why are you asking me this?"

Somewhat taken aback by her question, Booth shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Because things have been…hell, I don't know, Bones. Something just feels off between us. I know I haven't been around much, but I just need to…" he trailed off and just looked at her, willing her to understand what he was asking.

After a moment she whispered, "I don't know."

"You what?" His eyes were wide and anxious.

"I don't know." She sounded desperate, and it made him want to hold her, but he wasn't sure she'd let him. All of the rules had changed and he wasn't entirely sure what was allowed anymore. "Everything is…I have some things I need to figure out," she said with a tremor in her voice.

Booth was thrown by the direction this conversation had gone. _She doesn't know if we're okay? She's got things she needs to figure out? _This, coupled with what he'd seen earlier through the restaurant window—Bones leaning on some other man—caused a picture to form in his mind that made him very uneasy.

"What can I…how can we fix this?"

"I'm not sure, Booth. I just need a little time." She turned away from him.

"Bones, wait, hey, there was…something else I wanted to tell you." He hesitated, wondering if he should sit on this for a while. But he wanted to see Bones' reaction when he told her, hoping it might give him some clue as to how she felt about him. "I haven't talked to Parker about it yet, but Hannah was offered a promotion." He paused for a second, prompting her to turn around and face him. "But in order to take it she has to move—"

Brennan paled at his words, but before he could finish they were interrupted.

"Dad!" Parker shrieked.

Terrified, they both raced to Parker.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Booth asked in a panicked voice.

"I'm fine, dad, look at this—"

"I thought I said hands in your pockets!"

"Oh, sorry," Parker said sheepishly, removing his hands from the glass.

"Geez, buddy. You scared me half to death." Booth swiped a hand over his face. "I thought I was going to find you being eaten by a python or something."

"Sorry, dad, I just wanted to ask Bones if this was one of the lizards she was talking about that she saw in Maluku."

Booth watched as Bones walked around with Parker and talked with him about the various animals scattered throughout the room, a knot of worry growing in his chest. Bones had looked almost sick as he tried to tell her about Hannah leaving. What did that mean?

He and Parker stayed for almost an hour, but he never managed to get Bones by herself again to finish their conversation. She very determinedly busied herself with Parker for the rest of their visit.

As he and Parker were leaving, Booth bumped her shoulder with his. "Hey, Bones. Even if we don't pick up a case, let's have lunch tomorrow?" He cursed the question in his voice, but suddenly he didn't feel sure of anything.

She looked wary. "Perhaps. I have a lot of backlogged files to sort through. I may have to work through lunch."

He held her gaze for a moment, feeling at a loss. Her face was completely blank, giving him no indication of whether or not she was being truthful. He dropped his eyes to his shoes and nodded with a sinking feeling in his gut.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later…" he trailed off, looking up to see that she was already walking away.


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's Note: Do you see how much faster I write when I'm not dealing with B & B talking to one another? Those two just give me such a hard time._

* * *

><p>"Okay. I'll talk to you later…" Brennan heard Booth say as she walked briskly away from him and towards the restroom, where she locked herself into a stall and wrapped her arms around herself.<p>

She couldn't believe how casual Booth had been when he was telling her he was leaving. _Leaving_. She had believed before that Hannah's presence in his life had turned her world inside out, but this...

She bit back a sob. Even knowing that the lab was empty, she didn't want to break down here.

Her mind whirled with possibilities. Her one consolation was that he couldn't be moving very far away. He wouldn't just leave Parker. It had to be somewhere within a few hours so that he could still continue to see his son regularly.

But that offered meager comfort considering how little she saw of Booth outside of work. Even if he were in town twice a month to visit his son, it was unlikely that she would see them very often. They'd been back in DC nearly six months and she'd only seen Parker twice; today's visit hadn't even been planned. If she hadn't run into them by accident, she wouldn't have spent time with them today.

The fact that this was entirely her fault only magnified her pain. She'd replayed her rejection of Booth's overture many times; while she was in Maluku, she'd realized that all she'd misrepresented herself. She'd told him _no _and _I can't change_; what she hadn't said was, _I want you, but I'm afraid_ or _please give me more time._

She'd returned to the States hopeful that they cold pick up where they left off, perhaps let their friendship naturally evolve into something _more_, but it was already too late.

She shook her head. Dwelling on this was useless. She needed to focus on something else.

She took several calming breaths and then focused her thoughts, centering herself by reciting the bones of the body, starting with the skull and working her way down towards the feet. Once her internal recitation was complete, she felt calm again.

She exited the stall and stepped up to the sink, splashing cool water on her face. As she regarded herself in the mirror, she heard voices in the lab. She checked her reflection critically to be sure that nothing looked amiss, and turned to investigate who had arrived.

oOo

When Booth and Parker returned to his apartment, he did a quick walk-through and, true to her word, there was not a trace of Hannah to be found, other than the faint smell of her on his sheets. He immediately began stripping the bed, eager to have the last trace of her gone.

Try as he might, he couldn't keep his thoughts away from Bones. Specifically, the look on her face when he'd tried to tell her about breaking up with Hannah.

During his aimless wanderings the night before he had wondered if he'd exaggerated the seriousness of his relationship with Hannah to Bones in order to reassure her that they could be partners and friends without him expecting more; now he was beginning to wonder if she still needed that reassurance.

He was beyond confused. He felt like he was getting mixed signals from her. She'd been nothing but supportive of his relationship of Hannah, in her own awkward way. She'd even helped Hannah choose the perfect gift for him, he thought, his eyes landing on the phone as he trudged through his living room on the way to the washing machine.

But there were also times—especially during the Eames case—when she had looked at him with a touch of wistfulness, and an enigmatic expression that made him wonder if she _did_ have feelings for him.

He knew that what he needed to do was just ask her, just talk to her, without codes and secret meanings, but…the last time he'd tried to talk to her frankly about feelings and relationships had been disastrous. He remembered the despair he'd felt, walking arm in arm with her after she'd summarily rejected him as a man but clung to him as a partner. Besides, he knew better than anyone that pushing Bones was the fastest way to send her running.

He dumped detergent in on top of the sheets and dropped the lid of the washer, startled out of his reverie by the clang of metal on metal.

_God, you have fucked things up._ The worst part was, even if she _did _still have feelings for him, what then? He'd spent the last six years trying to convince her that love is more than the influence of hormones in the body and that it can _last_.

How could he explain his behavior to her without completely obliterating her belief in love or her trust in him? He thought about their conversations revolving around Padme and Jared, how upset she had become when it seemed to her that he'd lost his faith in love; he thought about how often she'd heard him say he loved Hannah, his assurances that he and Hannah were serious about one another.

He knew Bones well enough to know that presented with the evidence of his behavior, she would conclude that only one of two things could be true: either he was wrong about love, and it really was just a cocktail of chemicals which created fleeting, unreliable feelings or he was an untrustworthy cad who used women—not that she would use those words. She'd probably file it under Normal Male, Satisfying Biological Urges. Given what little she knew of his sex life—his "slipups" with Rebecca and his casual relationship with Cam—it really wasn't that much of a leap.

Either way, how the hell was he supposed to repair this enough that she might someday, possibly want to be with him? That she might believe that _they _could have a love that lasted a lifetime?

"Hey, dad?" Parker's voice shook him out of the downward spiral of his thoughts.

"Yeah, bud?"

"What's for dinner? I'm hungry."

He inhaled through his nose, pushing his worries aside and trying to focus on his kid. "Ummmmm…pizza? And we can watch a movie. Your choice."

Parker smirked. "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

Booth whined, "Again? Don't you like any other movies? C'mon, that movie should never have been made. Willy Wonka is a _classic_." He snapped his fingers and declared, "You took it back to your mom's house last time!"

"I remembered to bring it with me."

With a shake of his head, Booth relented. "Alright, but I get to choose the toppings this time, bub."

oOo

Cam made a beeline for her office, calling over her shoulder to Paul, "I'll just be a second, I promise," when she saw Brennan exit the bathroom. "Dr. Brennan," she said in surprise. "I…didn't think you were coming in this weekend."

"My plans changed."

She hesitated, prompting Cam to ask, "Is everything okay?"

"Could I speak to you in your office for a moment?"

Cam looked at Paul. "Why don't you go have a seat," she said to him, nodding towards the lounge above them.

"This will only take a moment," interjected Brennan.

Paul nodded politely and headed for the stairs as the two women moved towards the autopsy suite.

Cam took a seat at her desk and gestured to an empty chair for Brennan. Once they were both seated, Brennan straightened her spine and cleared her throat, suddenly unsure about broaching this subject with Cam so impetuously.

"Dr. Brennan?"

Shaking herself, Brennan spoke up. "I wanted to discuss with you the possibility of hiring Dr. Edison full-time."

Cam's eyebrows shot up. "I'm not sure I'm following here. Are you…resigning?"

"Absolutely not. I am, however…considering the possibility of shifting my primary focus back to ancient remains. I could still consult with the FBI on the most complicated cases, but I would also be free to travel more, and to accept more of the requests that we receive to send ancient remains here for my examination."

Wondering what the hell Booth had done after their little talk Friday night, Cam carefully considered how to respond. Finally, she asked, "Are you certain that you want to…refocus your expertise?"

"I haven't made a decision yet. I wanted to speak with you regarding the feasibility first."

Nodding, Cam said, "And if I told you it wasn't feasible?"

"Are you attempting to ascertain my motivation for this change?"

"What I'd like to know is how serious you are about this. Would you…would you leave the Jeffersonian if you couldn't make this change?" She pursed her lips, weighing her next words. "Have you spoken to Booth about this?"

Brennan lowered her eyes to the hands, twisted together in her lap. "I have no intention of leaving the Jeffersonian. And I see no need to speak with him if it isn't feasible." She raised her eyes to Cam's, "But I will discuss it with him if it becomes a viable option."

"Okay. I will look into this, on one condition. I want you to talk to Booth _first_."

"Why?"

Cam looked at her knowingly. "Because he is your partner. And because I'm the boss," she said with a smile.

"I have reason to believe that it won't be an issue."

Cam's eyebrows disappeared underneath her bangs again. "And why is that?"

"I believe that Booth is planning to leave DC."

"Booth is—what?" Cam spluttered.

"I have reason to believe that Booth is planning to move."

"Reason to believe?" Cam steepled her fingers in front of her and leaned back in her chair, letting her head fall back. After a brief pause she sat back up and met Brennan's eyes. "Did he tell you this?"

Brennan nodded feebly.

"He actually said, 'I'm leaving DC'?"

Brennan tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "He said that Hannah was offered a promotion which required her to move."

"And?"

"And…he and Hannah are engaged in a committed, monogamous relationship. That is what…" Brennan took a deep breath. "That is what he wants. If she leaves, he will go with her."

"Yes, but did he actually _say _that?"

"Well, no…but we were interrupted."

"I see. Dr. Brennan, I may be over stepping my bounds here, but…I don't think he _would _leave. He wouldn't dissolve your partnership without discussing it with you, and he certainly wouldn't leave his son. I've known Booth for many years and I think I know him well enough to see where his priorities lay." Cam gave her a knowing look. "I think you've broken your cardinal rule."

"You're implying that I have made assumptions without having all of the evidence."

Cam nodded. "Talk to him. Ask him point blank. Get a direct answer. If he's leaving, I'll make sure we can meet your demands for more time to travel and spend with ancient remains. But I don't think he is."

"And what if he's not leaving, but I would still like to alter my focus?"

Cam pursed her lips and fidgeted with a pen on her desk. "Then we'll talk. I make no promises if he's staying, but I will at least look into it."

Brennan nodded sharply and stood up. "I won't keep you any longer. Please tell Dr. Lidner I appreciate his patience. And Cam…" Brennan's voice became soft, "Thank you. I will take your suggestion under advisement."

Cam watched Brennan leave, sighing with exasperation. Only Brennan would call a direct order a suggestion. What she'd wanted to do was shake Brennan and tell her to open her freakin' eyes. It was obvious enough to everyone else that Booth was still in love with her. But it wasn't her place. Cam was concerned she'd said too much already.


	18. Chapter 18

Booth was attempting to cram the empty pizza box into the trashcan when his cell rang. He looked at the display. Cam. _Shit_, he thought. _Here we go again._

"Booth," he barked into the phone.

"What the hell is going on, Seeley?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Camille?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone. The fact that she hadn't retorted with the usual _Don't call me Camille_ sobered him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Are you considering leaving DC? Transferring to another field office?"

He paled and his stomach dropped. "How the hell did you—? Why are you asking me this?"

"So it's true?" She sounded surprised.

"Wait a minute. You called me with a suspicion that I might be considering a transfer, but you didn't think it was true?"

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time here. I'm on a date. Paul thinks I'm in the bathroom."

"What the hell is going on, Cam?"

"I was at the lab today—"

"Oh, shit." He slumped against his kitchen counter, then gave it up and dropped heavily onto the floor, leaning back against the cabinet and propping his forearms on his bent knees. "Wait—does—is Bones the one who told you I'm leaving?"

"She seems to be under that impression. She said you're following Hannah somewhere because she got a promotion. I _assured _her that was ridiculous. That you wouldn't just up and leave your partnership, not to mention _your son_, to follow some blonde on assignment. I can't believe you—"

"Cam."

She paused her tirade. "What?"

"I'm not—Hannah's gone. She did leave to chase a promotion. _Overseas_…somewhere. I didn't get the details."

"Wait, she's _gone_ gone?"

"Yup."

"Well, then what is this transfer bullshit about?…Oh. Oh, I see."

"C'mon, Cam, don't be like that."

"You need to talk to Brennan. Pronto."

"Why? What did she say?"

She hesitated. "I know this may be hard to believe, but I actually _don't _want to be in the middle of this mess."

"What the fuck did she _say, _Camille?" Booth was careful to keep his voice low, mindful that Parker was camped in front of the television in the next room.

"How serious are you about this transfer?"

"Just considering all my options."

"Then you _need _to talk to her. I mean, really talk. No more dancing around all this stuff."

He hung his head between his knees. "I know. Would you please tell me what she said?"

Another lengthy pause. "She's considering cutting back on field work."

Booth felt like his veins were running with ice water. "She's not headed back to Maluku is she?"

"No. Just 'refocusing her expertise to ancient remains.' She insisted that she had not plans to leave the Jeffersonian."

"Oh, God," he groaned. "I—Thanks, Cam. Sorry I was…you know. And Cam?"

"Yeah?"

"I've got Parker for a couple of days, and I really need to get my head straight about this before I talk to Bones, so…could you keep all this under your hat for now? I really don't want her to hear it from anyone else."

"Your secrets are safe with me. I can't believe you're actually considering a transfer."

"Don't you have a date waiting on you?"

"Oh, shit! Just…fix this. If you cost me my forensic anthropologist again I'm going to be pissed."

Booth ended the call and sighed.

oOo

Brennan entered her home, her mind full of her recent conversations: with Cam, with Booth, and even with Benjamin. She was confused. But Cam was right about one thing: she didn't have all of the information. She and Booth needed to talk.

But first, she needed to figure out what she wanted. Temperance Brennan did not make life decisions based upon what some _man _was doing or not doing. She made her own choices.

Then again, Booth was not just _some man. _And she was not the same Temperance Brennan who dismissed love wholesale as chemicals and hormones: pleasant, but fleeting.

She sighed. She needed to talk to Booth. But she had some things to sort out before she did.

She pulled out her phone and made the call.

oOo

Booth was still sitting on his kitchen floor, feeling sucker-punched by Cam's call when his phone chimed to indicate a text. His heart stopped. Given the conversation he'd just had with Cam, he had a pretty damn good idea who the text was from.

He set his phone on the floor next to his hip with trembling hands, almost afraid to read it.

"Dad?" called Parker from the living room. "Is the popcorn ready?"

"Um…not quite. I'll be there in a minute."

With a deep breath he forced himself to pick up the phone and read the text.

_Booth,_

_I am going to visit Russ in North Carolina for a couple of days. I will return no later than Tuesday. I'd like to have a meal with you when I return._

_Bones_

Booth let out a sigh of relief. Yes, she was leaving town—_again_—but at least he knew where she was going and when she would be back. And—it surprised him how much it mattered to him—she'd sent _him _a message. Not a damn memo like the last time.

It was probably for the best that she was leaving town for a couple of days. He needed to take a little time to figure out what he wanted before they had this Talk, but if she were just across town he might not be able to resist the temptation of going to see her, common sense be damned.

As he measured the popcorn kernels and fired up the air popper, he allowed himself to imagine for the first time in…well, more than a year…what it would be like to have Bones here at a time like this. Making popcorn, watching a movie with his son…maybe a little making out of the couch after Parker went to bed…

But then he had a thought that sobered him instantly. What if she _didn't _want that? What if she didn't want _him_? Not to mention the challenge of getting there from where they stood now.

Cam's voice replayed in his mind. _She's considering cutting back on fieldwork_. If he stayed, what if she didn't even want to work with him anymore?

The deafening hum of the popper drowned out the sounds of the movie filtering in from the living room.

He shook his head. He'd spent too many years trying to read her and only asking for as much as he thought she wanted to give. It was time to figure out what the hell he actually wanted and go from there. No more guesswork, no more assumptions. He was going to find a way to tell her what he wanted and ask her what she wanted and they were going to have a frank and honest discussion about this if it killed them both.

Actually, he knew what he wanted. _Her_. Just her. But the question he had to answer was, if she didn't want him…what then?

More importantly, if she was already…he swallowed hard. If she was already with someone else…

His heart was racing as if he'd sprinted up several flights of stairs.

So what he had to figure out was what he would do if she didn't want him. He resolved to discreetly check into his options for transfer to another field office first thing Monday morning.

He drizzled butter over the freshly popped corn, then dusted it with popcorn salt. As he carried the bowl back to the living room, he stomach was still churning.

As he settled himself on the couch next to his son, he admitted to himself that he honestly wasn't sure he was prepared to leave Bones behind completely, but he also wasn't sure he could live in this state of being pushed away and pulled back in by her. He might as well have "Dr. Temperance Brennan's Yo-Yo" tattooed on his ass.


	19. Chapter 19

The next day after Booth and Parker had attended mass and eaten stacks of pancakes, as per their Sunday tradition, they were returning to Booth's apartment when his cell rang just as he was shouldering open the door.

"Booth."

"Hey, Seeley. Are you and Parker having a good time?"

Booth rolled his eyes, thinking he and Rebecca were a little past small talk at this point. "Sure, Bec. What's up?"

"Oh." She sounded a little flustered, which immediately raised his radar. Something was up. "My mom is doing better, and I thought I'd take Parker off your hands if you're ready for me to come get him."

"Well, we kinda have plans for this afternoon. Could I bring him back around dinner time?"

"Sure. I could use a little time to shower and pick up a bit. It was a pretty nasty bug, and I'd like to get cleaned up. I'm pretty wiped."

"Okay…is around six alright?"

She sighed with relief. "That'd be great. Can I talk to him?"

"Sure." Booth handed the phone to Parker, and then stepped into the kitchen to give his son a little privacy.

A few minutes later, Parker followed, holding the speaker of the phone against his chest. "Hey, dad, you wanna have dinner with me and mom tonight?" he asked hopefully.

Booth raised his eyebrows in surprise and held his hand out for the phone. Parker handed it over. "Let me talk to your mom for a sec, bub," Booth said as he jerked his head towards Parker's room and put the phone to his ear. As soon as his son closed the door behind him, Booth said, "What's going on, Rebecca?"

"Nothing, Seeley, I swear. Parker just mentioned a while back about his friend Matt and how his family eats dinner together every night, and he asked why we never eat together. Since you'll be dropping him off around dinnertime anyway, I thought it'd be nice. Just…sometimes I feel guilty that we can't give him one home, and…"

Booth closed his eyes, tilting his head back and biting he inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out, _And whose fault is that?_

"Yeah, sure, Rebecca. We can have a family dinner," he answered, almost managing to keep the edge out of his tone. He softened his voice a little, "I feel guilty that we couldn't give him that, too."

"Okay, Seeley. I'll see you at six."

"Do you need me to bring anything?"

"Just my kid. Preferably in one piece," she teased him.

Ending the call, Booth scrubbed his hand over his face. As grateful as he was for the extra time he'd enjoyed with his son, a part of him was relieved that Parker was going home this evening. That would give him at least one full day to check into his options at work and to figure out what the hell he was going to say to Bones when she returned.

oOo

Brennan passed two pleasant days in North Carolina with Russ and his family. When they inquired about Booth she simply followed the social convention of lying—_He's fine—_with the understanding that they were asking out of courtesy rather than genuine curiosity. She hadn't come here for advice; just a little time to think and space from Booth. She found it very difficult to be rational about their situation when he was in close proximity.

Because Russ and Amy both had to work and the girls were in school, she spent the better part of Monday in solitude, and she had come to some conclusions.

First, she had decided to ask Booth directly about his transfer. She was ashamed that she had avoided the conversation with him on Saturday while they were at the lab, busying herself with Parker and purposefully evading Booth's attempts to continue their conversation in private. Her actions had been weak and cowardly, two qualities she could not tolerate from herself. Even if Booth had been intending to tell her that he was severing their partnership and moving away from DC with Hannah, she owed it to him and to herself to hear him out and support him in whatever decision he made. As she considered it, she was struck by a surprising thought. _Why did Booth allow me to avoid that conversation? _In the past Booth had forced her to have discussions she didn't wish to have with him, undaunted by her many attempts to escape confronting difficult issues.

Secondly, she needed to reveal the truth of her feelings to Booth. She had initially kept her realizations to herself in an attempt to protect him from being put in an awkward position, as well as to protect their partnership. But the emotional instability she'd been experiencing _had _affected their partnership. She should have anticipated that the very acknowledgment of her feelings about Booth, even if not revealed to him, would impact their relationship. She'd been foolish and naïve to believe she could keep up that sort of pretense indefinitely.

Finally, she would offer to let him set the terms of their partnership if he desired to continue working together. Despite what she had told Cam, she very much wanted their partnership to continue as it was. Upon reflection, the devastation she had felt when she believed Booth was trying to tell her he was leaving indicated that she did not wish to terminate their partnership, regardless of what she had _thought_ she wanted. However, if he had decided to leave DC—or even if he was planning to stay but no longer wished to work with her—she would accept his decision. A return to ancient remains would still be professionally rewarding, if not as personally fulfilling as working with Booth had been. But she was responsible for creating this mess, and she was prepared to live with the consequences, however painful they might be.

She pushed herself up from the couch and decided to surprise Amy and Russ by having dinner ready for them when they got home as a way to thank them for graciously accepting her into their home on such short notice. She was also hopeful that keeping her hands busy would help to distract her from the anxiety pulsing in her chest about talking to Booth tomorrow.

oOo

As Brennan approached DC Tuesday morning, her apprehension grew. At one, when she was approximately half an hour from the city, she stopped for gas and sent Booth a text:

_Booth,_

_I will arrive at the Hoover in approximately 30 minutes. Would you like to have lunch with me?_

_Bones_

Every minute that went by with no reply caused the knot of worry inside her to swell. When she arrived downtown she wondered if she should call him or just go to the Jeffersonian and wait for a reply from him.

She weighed her options and decided that even if she went to the Jeffersonian, she would accomplish nothing in her current state of mind, and directed her car towards the Hoover. Perhaps Booth was in a meeting and unable to reply. If so, she would simply wait in his office until he returned.

As she approached his office, fidgeting with her visitor's badge, she saw that the lights were off and it was empty. She entered and perched on the edge of a chair, considering her options. Just as she was about to go in search of someone who could enlighten her about Booth's whereabouts, her eyes caught on a piece of paper peeking out from underneath a file folder. She plucked it out and examined it. Across the top in bold letters were the words: Transfer Request Form. Attached to it was a pink post-it note on which feminine writing read:

_Booth, _

_This is the form you will need. Don't hesitate to call if you have any questions. _

_Lorraine_

Brennan's legs gave out and she collapsed into the chair she had so recently vacated.

She took several deep breaths and attempted to calm her racing heart. It seemed as if her worst suspicions were true. But it didn't change what she needed to do. She had resolved to speak with Booth about their partnership and to support him no matter what his decision. She would have preferred not to find out the truth this way, but it was her own fault—once again; she shouldn't have been prying.

When she felt sufficiently calm, she exited Booth's office and almost collided with an agent whom she recognized vaguely, but whose name she could not recall.

"Sorry, Dr. Brennan," he said. "Should have been looking where I was going…If you're looking for Booth, he left a few of hours ago. Nasty stomach bug. He'll probably be out for a couple of days."

Her eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't remember Booth _ever _being sick. She'd seen him injured, but never ill. "Thank you," she choked out before hurriedly sweeping past him.

oOo

Booth was curled up on the cold tile of his bathroom floor, disoriented and weak. He already vomited…four times? Five? He couldn't remember. His head was pounding and he could feel the nausea beginning to build again.

He tried to sit up to get some water, because he needed _something_ in his stomach. He wasn't sure he could take the dry heaves again. But just as he attempted to lever himself up, the pounding in his head suddenly worsened, so that it seemed to surround him and he collapsed again. After a few seconds it subsided, but then resumed again, getting louder more forceful every time. It wasn't until the fifth time that he realized the pounding wasn't in his head, but on his front door.

"Can't…" he tried to call out, but found that talking made him feel even more nauseated, and curled up on his side.

Some time later he looked up to see Bones hovering over him. Between the dehydration, nausea, and fever, he was disoriented. "Bones?" he croaked. "Are you real?"

He felt her cool hand against his forehead and cheek, and he leaned into it, closing his eyes.

"Oh, Booth, you're feverish. Where is Hannah?"

One tight shake of his head. "Not here."

"When will she be back?" she asked, concerned about leaving him alone.

"Won't," he grunted.

"She's on assignment?"

"Gone."

Brennan wasn't sure what to make of his terse answers, but it was clear that he was very ill, and that speaking required great effort. Regardless of when Hannah was expected to return, it was obvious that Booth couldn't properly take care of himself.

She searched through his medicine cabinet until she found a thermometer and took his temperature. 103.1.

She needed supplies, but she was hesitant to leave him, even for a little while. She stepped into the living room and called Angela. As soon as she flipped the phone shut, she went back into the bathroom to find Booth asleep on the tile. She scooted around him, sitting with her legs crossed and lifted his head enough to put a folded up towel underneath him. She had a bowl of cool water that she soaked a washcloth in and laid across his forehead.

When Angela arrived with fluids, soup, saltines, and various medications, Brennan was still sitting on the bathroom floor with him. As she stood, she accidentally jostled him a bit, eliciting a moan from him, though his eyes remained closed.

Speaking barely above a whisper, Brennan said, "Thank you, Angela. I'm very concerned. He seems to have some sort of gastro-intestinal virus, and he's running a fever. I'm worried that he's at risk of dehydration. You shouldn't stay."

Angela ran her hand over her rounded belly and nodded. "Okay. But call me if you need anything else. No matter what time it is. I can always send Hodgins out," she said with a smile.

"Thank you, Ange, but this should be sufficient."

"Let me know how he's doing later, okay?"

"I will."

"Bones?" she heard Booth whisper weakly from the bathroom. "Were you here?"

"I'll be right there, Booth."

Brennan rummaged through the supplies Angela had delivered and gathered the things she needed. Kneeling on the floor next to Booth, she said, "Booth, open your mouth. This will help with the nausea."

"Bones? Is that you?"

"Yes. You don't have to swallow it, it will dissolve."

"Blech." He tried to sit up, but fell back onto his back. "What is that?"

"Here." Brennan elevated his head and shoulders and helped him take a few small sips of water. "It's an anti-nausea medication called ondansetron. If you can keep it down for at least twenty minutes, you should be able to drink a little." She studied his face carefully. "I'm worried that you are dehydrated." She pressed her palm to his forehead and then his chest, slipping her hand under the collar of his t-shirt. "You need to take some acetaminophen to try and get your fever down. When did you begin vomiting and how many times have you vomited?"

He started shivering violently, and curled into a tighter ball, but didn't answer.

"If you could take a lukewarm bath, that would help to bring your fever down also." She began peeling his t-shirt off.

"No." Booth looked up at her. Her head was directly between him and the light on his bathroom ceiling, creating a halo of light around her face. He shook himself, trying again to figure out if she was actually real. Never in any of his fantasies of being undressed by her had his mouth tasted of vomit and his entire body ached, though. "I can—"

"Booth, I've seen many naked men. I've seen _you_ naked before. It's fine."

He shook his head, but that brought on a wave of nausea. He stilled for a moment, letting the sick feeling pass. "No. Just…swim trunks. Bottom left hand drawer. Please," his words were labored and stilted.

She nodded slowly, "Okay. I'll be right back."

She returned, handed his swim trunks to him and closed the door, saying, "Just knock when I can come in."

She stood outside the bathroom, cringing at the grunting and thumping noises emanating from the bathroom, but at least he wasn't retching anymore. Perhaps the medication was helping.

"Booth, please, just let me help you…"

Several seconds later she heard a thump against the door and the lock click into place. With a sigh, she sat down on the floor, frustrated that he wouldn't let her help him. Then again, if the situation were reversed, she would probably feel the same way, she reasoned.

_This certainly complicated things_, she mused. She couldn't very well discuss their partnership and the future of their friendship with him if he was delirious with a fever. Then again, perhaps this was an opportunity for her to show him that she would be there for him if he needed her, but that she wouldn't ask for more than he could give.

While she was waiting for him to allow her back in, his cell phone began to vibrate on the coffee table. Hesitantly, she picked it up. Parker's face flashed up at her. She knew that Booth wouldn't want his son's call to go unanswered, so she pressed Accept and said, "Agent Booth's phone."

"Dr. Brennan?" Rebecca sounded surprised. "Is…Seeley there?"

"He is, but he's unable to answer the phone. He's very ill."

"Is it a stomach bug?"

"He appears to be nauseated and to have vomited several times, yes. He is also running a fever."

"Oh, crap. He must have picked up what my mom had when he had dinner with us the other night. Parker's sick, too. That's why I was calling, just to let Seeley know. He's been throwing up for a couple of hours now. I'm not sure how I didn't get it. Could you just let him know about Parker, tell him that I hope he's better soon, and that I'll call him later to give him an update? The worst of it lasted about 24 hours for my mom."

"Yes, I will pass your messages along. I hope Parker feels better soon."

"Thanks, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan ended the call and resumed her vigil outside the bathroom door.

Finally, the lock clicked again, and he whispered her name.


	20. Chapter 20

_Author's Note: I apologize for not responding individually to reviews again. It's just a busy time of year. I do appreciate every review, so thank you very much for taking the time to share your thoughts with me. I hope to have the next chapter up by the weekend, but the holiday season is a busy time, so I make no guarantees. Thank you for reading!_

* * *

><p>An hour later, Booth was sleeping while Brennan set about cleaning his bathroom. There were puddles of water everywhere, because when he'd gotten out of the tub he'd been too weak to stand up on his own; she assisted him and water had been sloshed out, soaking the floor and her clothes in the process.<p>

Then he'd insisted that she leave the room again while he peeled off his swim trunks and wrapped himself in a towel. He'd managed to put on a pair of boxers and an undershirt before he practically passed out from exhaustion.

After cleaning the bathroom, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and realized she needed dry clothes. As much as she was loathe to invade Booth's privacy, she was even less willing to leave him alone long enough to go home and get a change of clothes. She very quietly opened the top drawer of his dresser in search of a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for herself.

The first two drawers she opened were completely empty, but the third, in which she found a pair of pants with a drawstring, was so full that she had to yank forcefully to get it open.

Puzzling over this, she crept to the closet to locate a t-shirt, and found it almost half-empty. On the left hand side were Booth's dress shirts, suits, a few pair of pants and some t-shirts. The right side was devoid of any clothes. The floor of the closet was strewn with Booth's shoes: loafers, sneakers, sandals, but no women's shoes.

She frowned, as she looked around and realized that she hadn't seen _anything_ feminine since she'd arrived. Recalling Booth's succinct answers to her questions about Hannah earlier—_Where is Hannah? Not here. When will she be back? Won't—_she had a sudden realization. Hannah was actually _gone._ The evidence suggested that Hannah had moved out of his apartment. Had they broken up? And if so, why hadn't he told her?

Oh. _Oh._

_Hannah was offered a promotion, but in order to take it she has to move._

Brennan's hand flew to her mouth and she stifled a gasp. She'd thought Booth had been trying to tell her that he was leaving DC to be with Hannah, but perhaps he'd actually been trying to tell her that Hannah had left _him_. He must be devastated, and she had just shut him out and refused to talk with him about it. Her cheeks burned with shame.

But that didn't explain the transfer request she'd found on his desk earlier that day. She could understand that he might have decided to move away to be with the woman he loved, but if Hannah wasn't the reason…her mind whirled, but the only explanation she could find was the Booth wanted to get away from _her. _Try as she might, she could think of no other logical conclusion for him to leave DC—and his son—if he wasn't doing it to follow Hannah.

She shook her head. Cam was right. She'd been jumping to conclusions without all the evidence, and she was determined not to speculate anymore. Once Booth was well again, they needed to talk and straighten out this mess.

Brennan realized she was still standing in the middle of Booth's bedroom, in soaking wet clothes. She grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and went to the bathroom to change.

As she cinched the drawstring and tied it, she considered what she should do now. She didn't have any work with her, and she had no desire to watch television. Despite the fact that it was only a little after three in the afternoon, she was exhausted. The emotional turmoil of the past couple of weeks had made sleep very difficult. She briefly contemplated curling up on the couch, but she worried that if Booth woke and needed something she might not hear him.

Reluctantly, she returned to his bedroom. She stood in the doorway, hesitating. She had fantasized about being in his bed more times than she could count, and being here now as his friend and nursemaid was a painful reminder than she would never be more than that for him: a partner and close friend, if she was lucky.

Still, she needed rest, but she also needed to be near him, so she cautiously climbed onto the right side of his bed and settled on top of the covers, careful to stay as close to the edge as possible.

Within moments, exhaustion claimed her and she fell asleep.

oOo

Booth woke several hours later to find that his head was still pounding and his stomach was rolling uncomfortably. He felt a slight movement in the mattress that signaled someone else was in bed with him. Moving slowly, he turned his head to find Bones, dressed in his clothes, lying on top of his covers, sleeping curled up on her side, with her hands tucked under her cheek.

He blinked, trying to determine if this was real, or is he was dreaming. It was possible that he was so delirious from his fever that he was hallucinating. Despite the effort required, he reached out one hand and touched her shoulder.

He was surprised to discover that she felt solid.

"Bones," he croaked. "Bones, wake up." He tried to shake her, but the movement instigated another wave of nausea. After several deep breaths he barked, "Bones!"

Her eyes flew open. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, she practically leaped out of his bed. "Booth, I'm—are you okay? Do you need anything?"

He pressed his lips together and offered one tight shake of his head.

"Are you feeling nauseated again?" She rounded the bed and pressed her hand against his forehead. He didn't feel as warm as he had when she'd first arrived to find him curled up on his bathroom floor, but it appeared that his fever was rising again. "I'll be right back," she whispered softly.

She returned to find him lying rigidly on his back, breathing through his nose and fisting the covers in his hands.

"Booth," she said softly.

He cracked an eyelid open.

"Open your mouth, please."

His lips partly infinitesimally, and she slipped the medication into his mouth. He immediately clamped his lips shut again.

"Once it dissolves, you should have some fluid. I've got ginger ale."

His only reaction was a tiny nod. His breathing was very controlled, his eyes still squeezed shut, as if he were fighting the urge to vomit.

With a sigh, she settled on the floor next to his bed, leaning against the bed frame and pulling her knees up to her chest. She rested her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. She wondered what he'd thought when he'd woken to find her in bed with him. It was possible that he wasn't really even cognizant of anything at the moment, given how sick he was.

oOo

The next twelve hours were marked by a predictable cycle. Booth woke up about every three to five hours, extremely nauseated and feverish. Brennan would administer medication if enough time had passed since the last dose and encourage him to drink. Thanks to the ondansetron, he only vomited twice more, adamantly refusing her offer to sit with him both times.

Almost 18 hours after she'd arrived to find him curled up on his bathroom tile, Booth felt a cool hand on his forehead, then his cheek. He opened his eyes and saw Brennan leaning over him.

"Bones?" he croaked.

She had been wandering around his apartment in an attempt to stay awake. She hadn't slept more than six hours the night before, and had been having trouble sleeping since the Eames case began nearly three weeks prior. She was exhausted, and considering lying down again when she'd come to check on him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"What day is it? Wh-why are you here?"

"It's Wednesday evening." He looked confused, but lucid for the first time since she'd found him the day before. "When I returned from North Carolina yesterday, I went to your office to see if you wanted to have lunch. Another agent informed me that you'd gone home sick. I came to check on you. You were very ill."

"I'm still not feeling so hot."

"You're feeling much cooler now. Are you still nauseated?"

He opened his eyes and noticed that she was wearing his clothes. "Have you—have you been here the whole time?" he whispered, trying to sort through the sudden onslaught of images: Brennan hovering over him while he lay on his bathroom floor, supporting him while he brushed his teeth, putting her hand to his forehead to check his fever, feeding him medicine and sips of ginger ale, sleeping next to him in his bed.

He shook his head, trying to separate actual memories from his fevered dreams.

"You were unable to take care of yourself. I couldn't leave you alone, Booth." She paused, and when he didn't respond she continued, "I'm going to get some saltines and ginger ale for you. You need to eat and drink if you aren't feeling nauseated."

As she turned to leave, she heard him struggling to sit up. "You should stay in bed, Booth. You need to rest."

"I can rest on the couch. My back is killing me from being in bed."

He managed to sit up and place his feet on the floor. "I can help you, " she offered.

He shook his head and tried to stand, but collapsed back onto the bed. As he sat up again, she sat next to him and slung his arm over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Bones," he whispered, but he didn't meet her eyes.

Once he was settled on the couch, she covered him with an afghan and then went to the kitchen to get some crackers and a drink for him.

When she came back, he was slumped against the arm of the couch. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were clear, and his color had returned. It seemed as if the worst had passed.

"Thanks, Bones," he murmured, still avoiding her eyes. "You can go on home now…you don't have to stay. I'm okay now."

"I'll stay," she responded simply, setting the plate and glass on the coffee table in front of him.

"I'm fine, I'll be—ah!" He jerked forward and pressed a hand to his lower back. "Oh, man. My back is…" he trailed off.

"Perhaps pain medication would be helpful. Do you have any Vicodin left from the last time you injured your back?"

"They're in the kitchen cabinet above the fridge."

She retrieved the medication and brought it to him. He took the bottle from her, popping a pill and chasing it with two crackers and a gulp of ginger ale. She settled on the opposite end of the couch, turning to face him.

"Drink. You're dehydrated."

Embarrassed, but trying to hide it, Booth stared at his hands as he said, "Thanks, Bones. For taking care of me. I'd…I'd probably still be passed out on my bathroom floor if you hadn't showed up." He raised his eyes to hers. "But you really can go now. You look exhausted. Have you slept at all?"

Ignoring his question, she said, "Rebecca called. Parker is ill, too. I spoke with her yesterday afternoon shortly after I arrived. I believe that he was as sick as you were. She called back about an hour ago to let you know he was feeling better. I told her you'd call as soon as you were lucid."

He rolled his eyes and grinned at her, then froze. "Did I…did I say anything while I was…not lucid?"

She was surprised by his reaction, but just smiled at him. "No. It seemed that speaking made you nauseated. You were very curt. In fact…" she wove her fingers together, focusing on them instead of looking at him.

She stood suddenly and handed him his phone. "I'll go heat up some soup while you call to check on Parker. I'll be back in a moment."

Bewildered, Booth watched her disappear into the kitchen.

oOo

When Brennan heard Booth end the call, she returned to the living room with a bowl of soup. "How is Parker?"

"Much better. He was asleep, so I didn't get to talk to him, but Rebecca said he's on the mend."

Brennan settled herself on the couch again.

"So I was pretty out of it," he said, hoping she'd talk to him about whatever was on her mind.

"Yes, you seemed to be having difficulty determining if I was real."

"Ah." He remembered looking up at her from the bathroom floor, her face surrounded by a halo of light, and then, later, waking up to find her in her bed. Even now he wasn't sure if either of those had really happened or if he'd imagined it.

"And…" she trailed off.

He tensed, worried that he'd been babbling his dazed state. "What is it, Bones?"

"You said…" she looked up at him, "you said that Hannah is gone."

"Oh. Yeah." He relaxed a bit. "She, uh…the thing is…"

"I'm so sorry, Booth."

"You are?" _Sorry for what? _

"Of course. I know that you loved her, and I'm sure that you must have been very upset, and when you tried to tell me about it on Saturday—" her tone was brisk and matter-of-fact.

"Bones, wait." He searched for a way to explain how he'd fucked everything up in a way that wouldn't make her think he was a jerk, a liar, or a hypocrite. He sighed. He _had _acted like a jerk, he _had _lied—even to himself—and he _was _a hypocrite.

She stopped talking and just looked at him, eyes wide and trusting.

He took a deep breath, unsure of where to begin. Palming the back of his neck, he started, "Things with Hannah weren't…" He sighed. "I really don't want to get into it now, but…yeah, she left for a promotion, but things weren't…" he trailed off. "I came home planning to tell her that I didn't think things were working with us, but she already had her bags packed. It was mutual."

"Oh." Brennan's forehead creased with a confused frown. "But you said—"

"I know what I said, Bones. I was…kidding myself, I guess. Please, don't—can we save this discussion for later? I'm still feeling kinda rough." In fact, he felt weary and drained, ashamed and embarrassed, for reasons that had nothing to do with his illness.

Brennan toyed with the drawstring on the pants she was wearing, dropping her eyes to her fingers. "When I went by your office yesterday…"

The hesitant tone in her voice made Booth's stomach clench.

She straightened her spine and cleared her throat, looking him in the eye. She had resolved to ask him about this, and it was time to find out the truth. "There was a form on your desk. It was a transfer request form."

He stared at her dumbly, his brain clouded with fatigue and medication.

"On Saturday, I thought that you were trying to tell me that you were moving away to be with Hannah. But if you aren't leaving to be with Hannah, why are you considering a transfer? _Are _you planning to leave DC?"

"Bones, I don't know if this is the best time to—I mean, I'm still feeling pretty weak, and the Vicodin makes me a little—"

"Booth."

He stopped and looked at her.

"Please. I need to know. Are you leaving?" Her heart was beating so hard she felt as if it might burst out of her chest while she waited for his answer.


	21. Chapter 21

"_Please. I need to know. Are you leaving?" Her heart was beating so hard she felt as if it might burst out of her chest as she waited for his answer._

As much as he didn't want to have this conversation…well, at all, but especially when he was still feeling weak and out of sorts, he had promised himself that he would have a frank and open discussion with her about what was going on between them before he made any decisions about the future. "Bones, I…I don't know."

Her expression was perfectly smooth and calm, giving him no indication of how she felt.

"Why?" There was a slight tremor in her voice.

"Why am I considering it or why don't I know?"

She pursed her lips. "Both, I suppose."

Moving slowly, he turned and propped his feet on the coffee table, leaning his head back against the couch and closing his eyes. "The other day when I asked you if everything was okay between us? You said—" he paused. "You said you weren't sure. If things _aren't _okay with us, if you don't want to be partners anymore…I just needed to know see what my options are." He turned his head slightly to look at her.

"If I don't want to be—oh." Her cheeks flushed. "Cam called you." It wasn't a question. Brennan cursed herself for being so impulsive and foolish. _Of course_ Cam would tell Booth about their conversation. She hadn't thought to ask Cam to keep it a secret. In truth, she hadn't _thought _at all. She'd just _reacted_ to Booth's half-revelation, jumping to erroneous conclusions and creating more misunderstanding and confusion in the process.

"Booth, I was—I made a mistake."

"You what?"

"I've been keeping something from you, because I was afraid that it would affect our partnership. I thought that I could just deal with it on my own and things wouldn't have to change between us, but…" she trailed off, because while he was still looking at her, his eyes had glazed over and he was smiling strangely.

Booth found that he was having difficulty focusing on her, and her words suddenly sounded strange and warped. He raised his hand to scratch his nose and found that when he moved, it felt like he was swimming through syrup.

"Booth? Are you okay?" She scooted closer to him, pressing her hand to his cheek, then his forehead. He didn't feel feverish, but his eyes were glassy and unfocused.

Her eyes landed on the Vicodin bottle on the coffee table, and she recalled how he'd reacted the last time he'd been medicated for back pain. It hadn't been quite this dramatic, but the fact that he'd barely had anything to eat or drink for the past 24 hours likely exacerbated the effects of the drug.

She sighed. They obviously weren't going to finish this discussion now. His eyes fluttered closed, and he turned to curl against the arm of the couch. He was asleep in seconds.

She parsed their conversation, trying to figure out what Booth had meant.

His breakup with Hannah was mutual.

He was kidding himself.

Did that mean that he hadn't actually loved Hannah? Had he lied?

As for his explanation about the transfer…was he only thinking of leaving because he thought _she_ wanted to end their partnership?

And now that Hannah was gone, what should she do? She had resolved to disclose her feelings to him, but she wasn't sure that the timing was right. Should she wait a little while?

She was worried that Booth would think that she was only telling him _because _Hannah left. He might think that she expected him to respond in kind, when the truth was she didn't have any expectations from him. She just wanted to stop pretending.

She was beginning to think that all of these misunderstandings were her fault. If she'd just been honest with him about her feelings instead of running away, perhaps none of this would have happened.

There were just too many unanswered questions for her to come to any conclusions yet.

She groaned in frustration. So far, every conversation they had only raised more questions than were answered.

She watched him sleep for a moment, and realized that for now she just needed to focus on Booth's immediate needs. She couldn't make any decisions regarding her relationship with Booth without more answers from him, so she would just have to deal with that later.

At the moment, her biggest concern was his back. She knew he would be much worse off if he slept on the couch, but she also knew her own physical limitations. She couldn't possibly transfer him from the couch to his bed without his assistance.

"Booth. Booth, wake up, please."

He stirred and opened his eyes sleepily. "Mmmmmrph."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed." She scooted closer to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "I'll help you."

On the third try, she finally managed to get them both vertical and she helped him stumble to his bed.

Assuming that he was probably going to be asleep for a while, she muted the ringer on his phone and put it at his bedside, then gathered her things to run home and get a clean change of clothes so that she could shower. She wasn't comfortable leaving him alone for the night, but she felt that it was safe to leave just long enough to run home.

When she returned forty-five minutes later, he was still sleeping peacefully. She quickly showered, ate dinner, and then arranged a makeshift bed on the couch. It was nearly ten thirty by the time she'd finished everything, and she was exhausted.

She checked on him once more and then went to bed, expecting to fall asleep quickly, but she found that she couldn't stop thinking and worrying. After lying awake for nearly an hour, she finally got up to make a cup of tea.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she heard a soft, rhythmic thumping sound coming from Booth's bedroom. She had left the door cracked earlier, and she pushed gently on it now, peeking in to check on him. He was tossing fitfully in his sleep, mumbling words she couldn't make out.

She perched on the edge of the bed next to him and said his name softly several times. When she reached out and touched his shoulder he started awake and grabbed her wrist forcefully, wrenching her arm.

She cried out in surprise.

He froze.

"Bones?" His hand still gripping her wrist fell to his chest, where she could feel his heart pounding.

"Are you okay, Booth? It sounded like you were having a nightmare."

"I was—" he registered that he was holding her arm. "Did I hurt you?"

he asked as he released his grip.

She rubbed her wrist with her other hand. "I'm fine. Just surprised. How are you feeling?" Out of habit, her hand moved to his forehead, but then she jerked it back. "Sorry."

"For being concerned about me?"

She looked away. "How is your back?"

"I won't really know until I get up. I feel a little woozy from the pills you fed me earlier, though." He yawned. "And I'm still pretty wiped."

"I'll let you get back to sleep."

"No, stay."

Her entire body flushed with warmth at his words.

"Stay and talk to me for a few minutes."

"What were you dreaming about?" she asked him as she walked around the bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard.

"Ancient history," he answered softly. "Vicodin does that to me. Gives me weird dreams about…" he trailed off, but she knew what he was thinking. His time in the Army. It wasn't something he talked about often.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

He took a deep breath. "Not really. Most of the time, I don't even really think about it, you know? But sometimes…" He grew quiet, and she just waited. "There are no guarantees in life."

"Except for death," she mused. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, details she'd been insatiably curious about for years now. He'd hinted at dark things in his past before, and while she desperately wanted to know the truth about him, she was also a little afraid. Which is why, despite the fact that his defenses were lowered at the moment, she didn't push.

He laughed darkly, "Yeah, Bones. Except for death." He hesitated, but then asked, "If you don't believe in God or heaven or hell, what do you think happens after we die?"

She looked surprised by his question. "I believe that our bodies decompose and the atoms that we consisted of become part of the universe again."

"So you think your soul, the essence of who you are, will just...disappear?"

"There is no evidence to indicate otherwise." She regarded him for a moment and then said, "You seem disappointed by my answer. You know I don't believe that humans retain sentience beyond death…Why are you so troubled by this?"

"Well…if you're right, and something happened to me—I get shot in the line of duty or killed in a car accident—I wouldn't be able to watch Parker grow up. I would just…cease to exist?"

"Booth, I—"

"No, it's fine." He waved a hand at her. "I just…it makes me sad that you see death as so…hopeless."

"Actually, I find it comforting."

"Really? You find _nothingness_ comforting?"

"Yes," she answered simply.

"That? Makes no sense to me."

"Well, if heaven exists, and you are one of the fortunate few who are allowed to go there, then…you're there for eternity, correct?"

"Mmmm-hmmm." He nodded.

"I find that prospect terrifying. To be sent to some unknown place for eternity? No matter how wonderful it is, I find it difficult to believe I'd want to stay _anywhere_ literally forever. And of course, if you're sent to hell…even with all of the atrocities I've seen as an anthropologist, I'm not certain that _anyone _deserves eternal torment and damnation."

They sat quietly for a bit. Booth was lost in thought about the conversation they'd had earlier about the possibility that he might leave DC—what he could remember of it, anyway—and suddenly he was seized with the need to make her to understand why he was considering it. "I don't want to leave."

"What?"

"The transfer. I thought…since the Eames case we don't seem to be…I don't know. Something's off. I thought…" he blew out a forceful breath. "After Cam called and told me you wanted to cut back on field work, and the fact that things have been weird between us…" he paused, trying to find the right words. "I thought maybe it would be better for both of us if I left."

She smiled apologetically. "I don't really want to cut back on fieldwork. But…" She sighed. "When Hannah arrived and you began building a life with her—" she stopped short when he winced at the mention of Hannah's name. "I'm not accusing you of anything, Booth. You told me…" she drew in a deep breath, cursing the tremor in her voice, "you told me you needed to move on. I just didn't realize…at the time I thought that things would be the same between us if you did. But when Hannah arrived and you began spending your time with her, I was lonely." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "It was very difficult, but you were happy, and that's…that's what I want for you."

He covered her hand with his. "I'm so sorry, Bones."

She shook her head. "No."

He was taken aback. "No?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," she said vehemently. "You have no reason to be sorry."

"Even if that were true, I'm still sorry you were lonely." He debated internally, but finally decided he couldn't pass up the opportunity. "Besides, it seems like you're not having any trouble filling your social calendar lately."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"That guy…Benjamin? Are you two…?"

"Are you asking if we're romantically involved?"

He nodded, but didn't meet her eyes.

"I told you. We're friends. Nothing more."

"Are you sure he knows that?" He regretted the words and his biting tone the second they left his mouth, but it seemed that the filter between his brain and his mouth was malfunctioning at the moment.

Her spine stiffened, and he felt her tense. He looked at their hands. He hadn't even realized he was still touching her. He slowly pulled his hand back.

"You can ask him yourself on Saturday," she replied curtly.

"Saturday?"

"I asked him to accompany me to the Jeffersonian benefit this weekend."

"Oh." He silently berated himself. They'd actually been _talking_—not about the stuff they actually needed to talk about, but still—and he'd screwed it up. "I'm sorry, Bones. I didn't mean to be an ass. It's…it's not really any of my business anyway."

"It's fine. You should rest."

She started to get up, but he reached out and grabbed her hand. "Don't go yet."

She hesitated, but didn't sit back down.

"Please. I've been in bed forever, and I'm wide awake now and bored." He sat forward and swung his feet onto the floor. "Come hang out with me on the couch for a while."

"Can you make it by yourself?"

He was tempted to lie, just to have a reason to be close to her, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt like a letch. "I think so."

She threw him a doubtful look. "Why don't you let me help you?" she suggested.

"Nah, I can make it." He pushed himself up and shuffled into the living room. When he reached the couch he flopped down, then propped his feet on the coffee table.

She headed for the kitchen. "I'll get you something to drink."

"Please, no more ginger ale."

She stuck her head back in the living room. "What?"

"I never really liked it all that much anyway, but now I'm really sick of it. I think there's some lemonade in the fridge."

"Okay."

Half an hour later, Booth was channel surfing and Brennan was sleeping peacefully next to him on the couch. His back was killing him again, and he knew he should probably go back to bed; but watching her sleep filled him simultaneously with peace and melancholy, and he couldn't seem to tear himself away.

Throwing his head back, he swallowed another pain pill, then scooted down and tried to get comfortable, resting his right hand on her calf.

He thought about all she'd done for him while he'd been sick. He knew without a doubt that she cared about him as much as he cared about her. He'd suspected before, but this was proof.

But that still left some questions unanswered. Did she actually _want_ him? Maybe she cared about him as a friend and nothing more. And even if she did, was she ready to admit it? And even if she was, he'd just broken up with Hannah a few days ago. Was _he _ready to jump right into a new relationship?

He really wasn't sure where to go from here. He thought about what Gordon Gordon had told him more than a year ago. _Hope and patience._ He'd start by repairing their friendship. If tonight was any indication, she wanted to fix things between them, too. At least it was a start.


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's Note: I am sorry to say that I haven't been to DC in 20 years, and I have never been to Philadelphia, so I kept my descriptions intentionally vague. However, if I got something totally wrong, please tell me so that I can fix it. I did the best I could working from Google Maps. I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, and favorited. I really do appreciate each and every one of you!_

* * *

><p>Booth woke to find himself alone on his couch, contorted in an awkward position. He stretched out to get more comfortable and then held still for a moment, listening for any sounds that would indicate whether or not Bones was still in the house.<p>

He heard only complete silence, and he sighed with relief. As much as he craved her company, he was physically and emotionally drained, and he wasn't sure he could handle another Talk at the moment.

On top of that, he was afraid he might be getting a little too accustomed having her here. He kept having to remind himself that she was only here because he was sick and that once he was better they were back to being Just Partners with invisible lines they shouldn't cross.

He heaved a sigh and grabbed his phone off the coffee table. She'd taped a note to it, letting him know she'd had to go to the lab, but that she'd be back with dinner and to call if he needed anything. He traced his finger over the curves of her handwriting, aching with uncertainty.

That day and the next passed interminably. Booth wasn't actually sick anymore, but he also wasn't quite well enough to go back to work. Thursday he was still weak from his virus, and Friday his back was killing him from sitting around for three days.

Brennan explained apologetically that even though they didn't have any cases, she had to be at the lab for at least a few hours both days because she had fallen behind due to all the personal days she'd taken in the past couple of weeks. He was tempted to go into the office on Friday and just do paperwork, but Bones convinced him to take one more day off.

They had dinner together Thursday night, their conversation centering only on safe topics: work, Parker, the gossip running around the Jeffersonian. Booth could tell that Brennan had something she was holding back. He was both curious and terrified to hear what she had to say; his fear won out and he didn't press her.

_Hope and patience_, he reminded himself, repeating it so often that it began to feel like a mantra. For now, he was just going to earn back her trust and faith in him. And pray that his suspicions about this Benjamin character were false and that her assertions about their friendship really were true.

On Friday, instead of bringing take-out, she insisted that he get out of his apartment. She called him at two o'clock to inquire how he was feeling. When he insisted that he was fine, just bored to death—_a person cannot actually die of boredom, Booth—_she announced that she'd be picking him up in an hour, and that she expected him to be showered and dressed when she arrived.

Too surprised to argue, he barely managed to choke out his assent before she disconnected the call.

An hour later, he was freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a dark button down shirt, but still barefoot when she knocked on his door.

She breezed past him as he opened the door. "Hiya, Bones. So…what's on the agenda?"

"You'll see," she replied. She looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his hips and shoulders in a way that made his stomach flip. "You're not ready."

"Keep your pants on, I just need to get my shoes and coat."

"Why would I take off my pants?" He looked at her in exasperation, but she was suppressing a smile.

"How long have you been doing that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said with an air of affected innocence.

"_That._" He smiled at her. "Playing dumb."

"Put on your shoes. We have a schedule to keep."

He was grinning like a fool as he slipped into his shoes and zipped his leather jacket. Once he was ready she commanded, "Wait here," and turned towards his bedroom.

"Bones, where the hell are you going?"

"I have to retrieve something."

"Of mine?"

"Yes," she called over her shoulder. He obeyed and didn't follow, but he did catch sight of her tucking something into her enormous handbag as she returned to the living room.

"I think we need to have a talk about personal space, Bones," he said with mock irritation.

"I believe that I have earned a free pass."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I took very good care of you while you were ill, Booth."

"So?"

"So, just trust me. I promise I didn't invade your privacy. There is an item that you will require this evening, but if I asked you to bring it, then it would spoil the surprise."

"Surprise?" he asked skeptically.

She nodded earnestly.

"I—" he closed his mouth and considered for a moment. "What kind of surprise?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise."

When they exited his building, he was confused when she headed for the Metro station instead of her car. "Where are we going?"

"This way."

They chatted amicably on the subway. He was engrossed in her recounting of a prank that Hodgins and Wendell had played on the Egyptology department interns when she jumped up. "This is our stop."

"Union Station?"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "Yes," she answered simply.

She didn't let go of him, and he didn't pull away as they exited the Metro and headed for Union Station. "C'mon," she urged as she pulled on his hand. "We're going to miss our train."

"We're taking a train? Should I have packed a bag?"

She didn't answer, but tugged a little harder, almost causing him to stumble. "Geez, Bones, take it easy on the invalid," he teased her, feeling hyper aware of her warm hand in his.

Approaching the platform, he read the sign and asked, "Philly?"

She smiled widely.

"But why are we—?"

As they settled into their seats, she held up a hand to stop him. "Booth, would you like for me to look up the definition of surprise for you?" She waved her phone in front of him.

He settled in his seat and said, "Fine. Fill me in on what I missed this week. Other than Hodgins corrupting Wendell."

They chatted easily for the first hour of their train ride, each privately thinking of all of the issues that were still hanging in the air between them, but neither one bringing them up.

"You look tired, Booth."

"Yeah, I guess I'm still not quite up to snuff."

"You can rest. I don't mind. I have things to read."

"Of course you do." He smiled at her indulgently. "I guess I could use a little nap, especially since it's going to be a late night, I'm guessing." He looked at her expectantly.

"No clues. But, yes, it would be wise for you to rest."

Booth stretched out on an empty seat across from Brennan and fell asleep almost immediately.

She pulled out her tablet and began reading some of the articles she'd downloaded earlier in the day, but found that she was unable to concentrate. Instead, she watched the passing landscape, occasionally stealing glances at Booth's sleeping form.

She was very excited at the prospect of doing something fun and unexpected for him. It had been serendipitous that her agent had emailed her Thursday afternoon with a list of events that she could procure tickets for, if Brennan so desired. Normally Brennan refused these privileges, but at the top of the list had been tickets to watch the Philadelphia Flyers playing at home Friday night, and she just couldn't pass up the opportunity to do something nice for Booth. Between the anguish that she had put him through with her disappearance, his break-up with Hannah, and then his illness, she thought that he could use a pleasant surprise.

She could not recall ever having been so consumed with the desire to bring pleasure to another person before, but she wanted to be able to do that for Booth more than she could adequately describe.

She thought of all the things he'd given her over the years they'd been partners: a renewed relationship with her father and brother; a Christmas tree; Brainy Smurf and Jasper the pig; comfort and companionship when she needed it but couldn't or wouldn't ask for it; but, most importantly, he'd coaxed her out of her isolated existence and helped her to forms bonds and connections that she would never have been brave enough to attempt before knowing him.

She wasn't entirely certain where they stood with one another, metaphorically speaking, but their revelations over the last week had established at least one comforting fact: they both desired to continue their partnership and rebuild their friendship. Regardless of her feelings for Booth, and her hope for a romantic relationship with him in the future, his friendship and support were paramount, and for now that would have to be enough.

oOo

"Booth. Booth, wake up. We're almost there." He opened his eyes to find Bones hovering over him, her fingers gently squeezing his shoulder. It took him a moment to get his bearings and he recoiled slightly. "Sorry," she murmured, moving away from him.

He sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Nah, Bones, it's…it just took me a second to figure out where I was is all." He offered her a lopsided smile, which she returned.

"Okay, we're here. _Now _are you gonna tell me why you dragged me all the way to Philly?" Booth asked as they gathered their things to disembark a few moments later.

She ignored his question and asked, "What shall we have for dinner?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"You'd like a cheesesteak?" she clarified.

He rolled his eyes, but then paused. "What will you eat?"

"I can have a cheesesteak without the steak. They do put cheese and peppers and onions on them, correct?"

"Alright, Bones, let's go get some steak sandwiches, hold the steak on yours," he said with a grin.

After they had eaten, she checked the time on her phone. "We should hail a cab."

"Where are we _going_?" he whined.

He had asked the same question numerous times, in varying tones of voice, but every time she had ignored it and continued as if he hadn't asked. This time was no exception.

Once they were in the cab, she instructed him, "Remove your shirt, please."

His stomach bottomed out a little hearing those words come out of her mouth, and at first he thought maybe he'd imagined it.

"What did you say?" he practically squeaked.

"Your shirt. Take it off."

God, how many times had he imagined hearing those words from her in that no-nonsense tone. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, and scoffed. "Not on the first date," he quipped.

She froze. "A date?"

"Just kidding, Bones. But…why are you trying to undress me in the back seat of a cab?"

"I promise not to molest you, Booth." He was sitting perfectly still and he could see the cabbie smirking in the rearview mirror.

"C'mon, give me something here."

"I thought you trusted me?"

"Why'd you have to bring trust into this?"

She looked at him sternly and he huffed, but shed his jacket and shirt. Once he was bare-chested, Brennan pulled something out of her purse and unfurled it like a flag.

It was his Flyers jersey.

"Is that—? Are we—? Bo-ones!"

Her answer was to unbutton her blouse and reveal that she was wearing a Flyers t-shirt. "I wanted us to be properly attired, but I didn't want to spoil the surprise."

Booth was practically bouncing on the seat with excitement.

Her face split into an enormous grin at his obvious pleasure, but it was quickly replaced by a mock stern look. "In the future if I promise you a surprise, will you just trust me?"

After he'd pulled his jacket on over the jersey, he grabbed her and wrapped her in a tight hug. "Thanks, Bones."

He settled back in his seat, staring out his window and thinking that regardless of what he'd told her, this _felt _like a date. There was something arcing between them that was different than usual, something that inspired terror and elation in him in equal measure, but that he couldn't quite name.

oOo

Much later that night, as they were walking out of the arena, Booth groaned and said, "Oh, God. I am so full I think I might be sick."

"Well, considering that you ate two cheesesteaks before we went to the game and then you had a hot dog, nachos, cotton candy—"

"Whoa, stop right there, Bones. First of all, that's part of the fun. Junk food is crucial to the experience of going to a hockey game. Secondly, please stop talking about food. I've already puked enough this week. I really don't want to do it now."

She smiled at him, and then bit her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth. For what felt like the millionth time that night, Booth was seized with the desire to kiss her.

Suppressing the impulse, he asked, "Should we catch a cab back to the station?"

"In a minute. I'd like to walk a little first, if you're feeling up to it."

"Sure." In truth, he was feeling so high from watching the Flyers win, her presence, and the fact that she'd planned this for him, that he was feeling on top of the world.

She linked her arm through his and they walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

After a few blocks, Booth said, "I was a little surprised at you tonight."

"That was the idea."

"No, not…not coming to Philly and going to the game, although it was a great surprise…I meant, you didn't give me any lectures about the anthropological significance of anything, or the alpha male displays of aggression…" he trailed off as her face fell almost imperceptibly.

"It was very interesting."

He was quiet, waiting for her to continue. Finally, when it was apparent she didn't intend to go on, he asked, "And…?"

"And what, Booth?"

"I'm waiting for the lecture," he said with a smile.

She shook her head with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Whoa, wait a second…" he stopped, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Booth." But she didn't meet his eyes.

"You have no anthropological insights to share about hockey? A violent game where men beat each other with their sticks? No comment on the testosterone-fueled alpha-male displays of dominance?" He paused. "Nothing?"

She tried to pull out of his grasp, but he slid his hands from her shoulders to her upper arms and gripped her gently. "Bones?"

When she finally raised her eyes, he could see tears gathered at the corners, and his stomach rolled. "What—Bones? What's wrong?"

"Please, let's just go."

"No." He took a half step towards her, so that their faces were only inches apart. "Tell me." His eyes searched her face for some clue as to what the hell was going on.

She cut her eyes to the side and whispered, "I was simply endeavoring to conform to the norms of expected behavior for a sporting event."

It took him a moment to translate what she'd said. "Wait—you didn't say anything because you thought it was _inappropriate_?"

"I just wanted you to enjoy the game."

"Oh, Bones." Hs eyes softened. He felt like an ass. "I know that I tease you sometimes, but—do you think it _bothers_ me when you go all Anthropologist?"

"You told me once that I 'suck the fun' out of things when I analyze them too closely. I wanted tonight to be fun."

"What an asshole," he said, disgusted.

"What?" Her eyes leaped to his.

"No! Not you—_me_. Bones, c'mon, I was just teasing you when I said that. I like it when you do your thing." Without his permission, his left hand strayed upward to cup her face, his thumb ghosting across her cheek tenderly.

Confusion twisted her features. "You do?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "I do."

His eyes flitted to her lips and she leaned towards him infinitesimally. His heart thumping wildly, he was consumed with the desire to feel her soft lips against his.

In the back of his mind he knew that this was foolish, but the combination of the domesticity of her taking care of him the past few days, and then this quasi-date that they were on had stirred up feelings he'd thought were carefully buried. Trying desperately to silence the voice of reason in his head, he leaned towards her.


	23. Chapter 23

_Author's Note: To those of you whom I promised this chapter yesterday, I apologize. Migraines, children, sickness, and holiday obligations conspired against me this week. Also, I had a really really hard time with this next part of the story. This is the third version, and even though I'm not **entirely** satisfied, I have pronounced it Good Enough to Post. I hope it was worth the wait. There will be at least one more chapter, but not until after Christmas, possibly not until the New Year. Happy Holidays, everyone!_

* * *

><p><em>His eyes flitted to her lips and she leaned towards him infinitesimally. His heart thumping wildly, he was consumed with nothing but the thought of feeling her soft lips against his. <em>

_In the back of his mind he knew that this was foolish, but the combination of the domesticity of her taking care of him the past few days, and then this quasi-date that they were on had stirred up feelings he'd thought were carefully buried. Trying desperately to silence the voice of reason in his head, he leaned towards her._

Brennan was arguing with herself internally. All night she hadn't been able to keep from touching him, and it had only just occurred to her a few moments ago that after taking care of him this week, she'd begun to feel like she had the _right _to touch him.

And now, his face was so close she was practically breathing him in and she desperately wanted to close those last few inches and taste him. She remembered the warmth of his mouth and the taste of tequila.

But that recollection carried with it the memory of a slap and _I hate you. _In fact, two of their three kisses had resulted in loss of contact with him for months.

There was too much at stake to follow her baser urges this time. There were too many questions to which she required answers first.

"Booth, " she breathed, and his gaze snapped from her lips to her eyes.

Jolted out of the fugue he'd been in, he snatched his hands back as if he'd been burned.

He ran a palm over the back of his neck, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable.

The breathy way she'd said his name made him think that she actually _wanted_ him to kiss her. But it had also shot a jolt of raw desire down his spine that made him realize if he so much as touched her, he'd back her up into the nearest wall and press his entire body flush against hers. If he started kissing her he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop. He drew in a ragged breath at the images this thought inspired.

"Maybe we should get a cab now," she suggested softly, and he thought he saw a flash of disappointment in her eyes.

"Yeah, okay," he answered, silently berating himself. _What the hell happened to __**patience**__? _He had nearly fucked everything up because he couldn't control himself.

By the time they reached the train station, the awkwardness had begun to wane, and Bones said, "Maybe we should do this again. We could bring Parker. I suspect he would have enjoyed this evening."

His heart clenched at the uncertainty in her voice. "Yeah, Bones. I had a lot of fun tonight, and I know that Parker would love to come with us next time," he answered, wondering if she thought they needed a chaperone.

Even though he'd meant to stay awake, Booth fell asleep within minutes of the train leaving the station.

Brennan heaved a sigh of relief, grateful to have a few minutes alone with her thoughts. She closed her eyes and recalled the moment he'd almost kissed her, _I like it when you do your thing_, and his hand touching her cheek so gently…

He had looked at her the way he used to, his face radiating a combination of unguarded tenderness and desire.

She allowed herself just a few moments to imagine what might have happened if she hadn't spoken, if she'd just kissed him instead. But what about after? There were still so many things they hadn't addressed.

She knew it was time to stop hiding, and just tell him the truth.

oOo

Booth was surprised when she didn't put up a fight at his insistence that he accompany her home before heading home himself. He was even more surprised when she invited him in once they reached her apartment.

When he didn't answer right away, she repeated, "Booth? Would come inside with me for a moment, please?"

He hesitated because he wasn't sure he could trust himself alone with her in her home, in the middle of the night.

When he still didn't answer, she asked, "Is something wrong?"

She looked confused and a little bit hurt by his reticence. Unable to find his voice, he simply nodded and followed her in, flipping the deadbolt behind them.

She hung up her coat and walked towards the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? Hmmm…it's looks like I've only got water and beer."

"I'll take a beer," he answered as he settled on her couch.

As she held out the bottle towards him, he read apprehension and fear on her face.

"Penny for your thoughts, Bones."

"What?"

"You look worried," he explained. "What's wrong?"

Steeling herself, she said, "I've been keeping something from you."

He froze, the bottle halfway to his mouth. After a beat, he lowered the bottle and licked his lips, but he didn't say anything, waiting for her to continue.

"But first I have something to ask you, and I need for you to be honest with me."

He nodded mutely, feeling hyper aware of his body, as if every inch of his skin were buzzing.

"Did you love Hannah?"

"What?" A question about Hannah was the last thing he'd been expecting.

"When you were ill, under the influence of pain medication, you told me you'd been 'kidding yourself' about her. What does that mean?"

"Bones—" he stalled. "Why are you asking me this?" He shifted uncomfortably.

"Because I want to understand."

He sighed. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but he knew Brennan. She wasn't going to let this go, and he was dying to know what she'd been keeping from him.

He looked down at his hands. "I liked her. I cared about her. But, no, I didn't…" he raised his eyes to hers, "she was never the most important person in my life."

She nodded, analyzing his words. "Because Parker is the most important person in your life," she clarified.

He shook his head slightly. "That's not what I meant, Bones." He weighed his words, worried that he was taking another risky gamble; but he pushed on, motivated by the look in her eyes earlier that evening when he'd almost kissed her. Locking eyes with her again, he said, "She was never the most important woman in my life."

Silence stretched between them as she processed this new revelation, her head cocked to one side.

"I don't understand. You lived with her. You spent your free time with her. You were engaged in a sexual relationship with her."

Booth flushed. "That's true."

"But you weren't 'in love' with her?"

"Where are you going with this?" Booth felt like his stomach was doing somersaults. He scrambled for a way to avoid this conversation, while simultaneously hoping that there was a _reason_ she wanted to know this.

"I just want to understand."

"Bones…" he rubbed the back of his neck, not looking at her. "I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I wouldn't be another person who abandoned you. But when I came back from Afghanistan, I felt…" he sighed. "It was hard to be around you." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Why?" She looked genuinely surprised.

"Because…because I was still in love with you." The words left his mouth as if they were being forcibly removed. He took another swig of beer, his eyes focused on the coffee table.

She noticed that he said _was _not _am_, and the fluttering in her abdomen intensified.

"After a couple of days, it was like we'd never left. We still had dinner together and went for drinks and…" Booth trailed off, hoping that she would just understand and not expect him to spell it out any more than that.

"And when Hannah arrived, that made it easier for you?"

"Yeah," he said.

"So it would be correct to say that Hannah was your second choice?"

Looking ashamed and guilty, he leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, feeling like an inadequate prick.

Brennan watched him, struck with remorse. She reached out and touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Booth, I didn't mean to—"

His head snapped up, and he cut her off, his voice soft. "No. She wasn't my second choice." He held her gaze and saw her swallow hard. God, he felt like an asshole. "It wasn't a choice at all…she was there, and beautiful, and she _wanted _me," his voice was still soft, but he couldn't help the resentment that crept into his tone.

He knew that Bones, of all people, would understand the reasons he'd taken up with Hannah, but somehow that made it worse. He'd been lecturing her for years about relationships, about making love and letting marks fade naturally, and then he'd gone and satisfied his goddamnned biological urges—painted over his pain with a fresh coat of Hannah—undercutting everything he'd wanted her to believe in.

Brennan blinked. She knew what these admissions must have cost him.

_She __**wanted **__me, _he'd said_._

All these months she'd assumed that he understood that'd _she_ wanted him, that she'd only said no to _protect_ him; that he was more important to her than her own selfish desires. It made her ache to think that she had added to the evidence he'd been compiling that he just wasn't good enough, when the truth was, he deserved _more_. He deserved the best.

She collected her thoughts, ready to offer something in return for his honesty. "When I returned from my cruise, you asked me why I left, and I promised that I would tell you when I was ready." She smiled weakly, "While I'm not entirely certain that I'm ready..." She drew in a shaky breath, "…it's time for you to know the truth. The reason I ran from you that night is that I realized I'd made a mistake. I shouldn't have—" she faltered.

Heart pounding, he scooted closer to her and covered her hand with his.

"I told you no because you are the most important person in _my_ life, Booth. You have been for years. I wanted to say yes, but I was afraid if we tried to be together and failed…I couldn't risk…" she choked on a sob. "I didn't consider that refusing you would change things so dramatically that I would lose you anyway." It took Booth a moment to realize that she wasn't talking about the night in Woodland at all.

"Oh, Bones," he brushed her tears away with the pad of his thumb.

He pulled her closer and she leaned into him. "I don't want to have any regrets," she whispered against his neck.

He held her, stroking her back gently. She pulled back and the uncertainty in her face made him ache. "Do you still—" her voice broke. "Do you still want me?"

Booth held her chin and looked into her eyes. "I will never stop wanting you."

"How can you be sure?" she whispered.

He pulled her on top of him, so that her knees were on either side of his thighs, and cupped her face. "Because I spent more than a year _trying_ not to, but I couldn't. When you disappeared, I realized that I'd been lying to myself."

He kissed her, tenderly at first, but it gradually became more heated. Booth kept his hands anchored to her hips. When Brennan snaked her hands under the hem of his shirt and raked her nails across his stomach, he gasped and pulled back.

"Bones, wait—maybe we should—" he lost his train of thought as her thumbs rubbed across his nipples. "Maybe we should slow down a little."

"Why would we do that?" she asked, as her fingers unsnapped his jeans, causing his hips to buck as they brushed against him.

He captured her wrists in his hands and pinned them to her thighs. "Wait, please, just _wait_—" he practically whimpered.

"Booth, it's been more than six years since we almost had sex the first time." She rocked into him, placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck, then scraping her teeth across one earlobe. "I'm not inclined to wait anymore."

"Oh, _God_," he groaned, his head falling back and his grasp loosening enough that she was able to free her wrists.

She stood up and slid her jeans down her legs, smoothly whipped her shirt off and stood in front of him in white cotton panties and a matching bra. When she reached behind her to unfasten her bra, he grabbed her wrists again, then slid his hands against hers until their fingers were laced together.

From his position on the couch, his eyes were almost level with her breasts, and he was momentarily distracted by the sight of her nipples poking through the thin white fabric of her bra. As much as he wanted her, he needed to be sure that _she _was sure.

He stood and released one hand with an admonition to her to _behave_, which earned him a saucy smile. With his free hand, he cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb softly across her bottom lip.

"This is for keeps, right? We can't—_I _can't go back from this."

She swallowed and nodded.

"Say it," he whispered.

"I won't make a promise to you that I can't keep," she said, choosing her words carefully, and his face fell slightly. "I won't promise you forever. I _can't_," she said earnestly. "But you are the first person with whom I have ever wanted, or even _considered_, forever. Is that enough?"

He just stared at her, speechless for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah, that's enough."

"Do you still want to 'take things slow'?" she asked as she ran her hands under his shirt again.

"_Hell_ no," he said as he kissed her again and waltzed her back to her bedroom.


	24. Chapter 24

_Author's Note: All right, kids this is it. It's finally finished. I'd like to say a final thank you thank you thank you to everyone who alerted, favorited, and especially those of you who took the time to review. I hope the conclusion pleases you. _

_As for The Change in the Answer, I haven't forgotten about it. I hope to finish it in the next few weeks. _

* * *

><p>Booth toweled his hair dry and hit the button on the coffeemaker with a smile. Brennan had surprised him in the shower this morning and he just couldn't seem to <em>stop<em> smiling. Rubbing a hand across his bare chest, he began searching through the refrigerator for something for them to eat when he heard a knock at the door.

He frowned. They hadn't discussed how they were going to handle telling everyone about them—or _when_—so he wasn't sure what to do. Quietly padding to the front door, her peered through the peephole.

He was surprised to see a familiar but unwelcome face. Benjamin.

Knowing she'd probably be pissed, but unable to stop himself, Booth wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door as casually as he could manage.

Benjamin looked startled at first, but a slow smile spread across his face. "Good afternoon. I was looking for Temperance, but it looks like I came at a bad time. Are you…Agent Booth?"

Booth nodded, unsure what to make of this. "And you're Benjamin?" he asked grimly.

Just then, Brennan emerged from her bedroom wearing a robe and towel on her head like a turban. "Did I hear someone—Benjamin? Oh. I forgot we had lunch plans today."

Booth turned slightly, but was still blocking the doorway. "Lunch plans?"

Benjamin smiled widely at her, and she returned his grin. Booth watched some understanding pass between them.

"I'll just…go. I'm assuming that you don't require an escort tonight?" Benjamin sounded amused.

Brennan shook her head. "I'll talk to you later, Benjamin. I'm sorry you came to DC for nothing, and for neglecting to call you."

"It's fine. It looks like you were otherwise occupied. I'll just check in with Victoria and Robert. See what they're up to today," Benjamin was still grinning for ear to ear. "Goodbye, Temperance. It was nice to meet you, Agent Booth," he said with a nod and then he was gone.

Booth closed the door and leaned against it, watching Brennan. "Okay, what was that all about?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why were you two grinning at each other like a pair of fools? And you had plans with him today? Lunch and then…oh. The benefit."

Brennan walked into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee.

"Still…" Booth trailed after her. "That was weird."

"What was?"

Booth watched her for a moment, considering. Should he admit that he'd been jealous and suspicious of Benjamin the whole time? That he'd answered the door in a towel to stake his claim?

He shook his head slightly. "He seemed…_pleased_ that I was here."

She nodded and took a sip. "Yes, I believe that's an accurate assessment."

"So he comes all the way to DC from…wherever he lives, to find that you've got another man in your apartment, you've forgotten about the lunch plans you made, _and_ you cancel your evening plans at the last minute and he's thrilled?"

She was smiling at him enigmatically. "Booth, I assured that he and I are just friends." She walked around the table and stood in front of him, placing her hands on his hips. "I was being honest."

She kissed him.

"I still don't understand. That was…strange."

"Why did you answer the door in a towel?"

"What?"

"Why did you answer the door in a towel?" she repeated.

He blushed guiltily. "Well, I didn't have time to…" She shook her head, cutting him off, still smiling that knowing smile. He should have known she'd see right through him.

"Booth, Benjamin is a homosexual. He was never interested in me sexually or romantically."

He gaped at her. "He's gay?"

"Yes," she said without further explanation.

Booth was torn between annoyance, exasperation, and glee. He shrugged off his annoyance and kissed her fiercely. "And you didn't think I might have been interested in that fact before now?"

She frowned. "I don't understand."

"Oh, God, Bones," he groaned. "Sometimes you are so adorably clueless." He lightly traced his finger over her forehead, smoothing away the frown between her eyes. "I was jealous of him."

"You were—when?"

"From the second I heard his name come out of your mouth." Their faces were so close they were practically breathing each other in. "If you were any other woman, I might suspect you were doing it on purpose."

Her smile faltered for a split second, and Booth tensed. "What?" he asked. When she didn't respond he followed up with, "_Were _you doing it on purpose?"

"Not to make you jealous," she whispered, her eyes focused on his chest.

"But you kept it a secret on purpose?" he whispered back.

"I thought…" she trailed off, and he curled a knuckle under her chin, forcing her eyes to his. "I needed a buffer, too."

"Oh." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. How easily he'd forgotten that a week ago he'd still been with Hannah. When he opened his eyes, she looked so vulnerable that it made him ache. He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her in for another kiss. "I'm so sorry, Bones. I swear I didn't—"

"Stop. We both made mistakes. Let's just…enjoy this."

He took a deep breath. "We can't just…there are things that need to be said."

"I know. But…not now. The last few weeks have left me feeling…emotionally drained. Let's just enjoy this for a little while first."

"What about tonight?"

"The benefit?"

"We're going together, right?" he asked.

"I would like that very much."

"As partners, or…"

"Oh." She cocked her head to the side. "Do you want to tell everyone now?"

"Not really, but…"

"But what?"

"Well, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my hands off you. Especially if you wear that blue backless number that you wore a couple of years ago…"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Let's just say I've," he cleared his throat, "_thought_ about that dress many times," he answered with a sheepish grin.

"It seems prudent to keep this between us for now. I can't imagine that it would please your superiors to hear about our involvement on the grapevine."

Booth chuckled, but didn't correct her. "You're probably right. All right…I'll try to keep my hands to myself. But I make no promises."

oOo

That evening Brennan was straightening Booth's bow tie when she said, "Stop that."

He cupped her hips and pulled her against him. "Stop what?"

She leaned back and met his eyes. "You were engaging in what Angela calls 'eye sex.'"

"Well…I was thinking about peeling that dress off of you later tonight." He rubbed his hand up and down her bare back, nuzzling her neck. "There's no place to hide a bra in that dress and I can't wait to see what kind of panties you're wearing under there."

"Oh. I'm sorry to say you'll be disappointed then," she said with an air of innocence that immediately made him suspicious.

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm not wearing any."


End file.
